


Blissfully Holting Steele

by MissMy80sShows



Series: Steele Moving Forward Series [7]
Category: Remington Steele (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 40,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMy80sShows/pseuds/MissMy80sShows
Summary: Laura and Remington are knee-deep in family relationships when the INS and an old friend of Remington's show up.  Will this be enough to burst their happy bubble?
Series: Steele Moving Forward Series [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/944382
Comments: 15
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

“Laura, are you sure you want to do this before talking to your mother?” Remington called from the bedroom.

“What?” Laura called back, the sound of the shower muffling his question.

Remington stepped into the doorway of the steamy bathroom. “Are you sure you want to tell your father before talking to your mother?” he clarified as he buttoned his shirt.

Laura shook the water through her hair as she stated, “I’ve tried to call her several times, but she hasn’t answered. I’ve also left three messages on her machine, and Mother hasn’t returned any of them.”

“Well, perhaps she’s engrossed in packing and didn’t hear the phone?” Remington suggested.

Laura snapped the water off before she yanked the towel off the bar on the wall. “Mr. Steele, I could see that happening once. I could even conceive it happening twice. But the fact remains something is clearly going on. It’s not like her to ignore a phone message, even for a day or two.” Behind the shower curtain, Remington watched her shadow as Laura rubbed her body down with the towel before asking, “Can you hand me my robe, please?” Without a second thought, Remington lifted the terry cloth garment off the back of the bathroom door and held it just out of Laura’s reach. She leaned to the side, the towel wrapped around her hair. With one hand, she was holding the shower curtain against her. She held her other hand out and, with a raised eyebrow, stated firmly, “We’re going to be late.”

Remington grinned, bounced his eyebrows several times as he teased, “We’re not late as your father doesn’t even know we’re coming, so let’s say we take advantage of our time this morning.”

Laura rolled her eyes and shook her head, “I want to get this done as soon as possible. I’m not going to be able to hide it much longer, and I’d rather have the cat out of the bag before my mother moves back to California.”

With a sigh, Remington lowered her robe closer. She tried to snatch it from him but was stopped when he closed the gap between them. He pressed his lips against hers and murmured happily. His hand crept down her back as the shower curtain crunched between them. He cupped her bare backside and whispered, “Are you sure we don’t have a few extra minutes?”

Laura sighed, kissed him back soundly before shaking her head, “I’m sorry, Mr. Steele. We’ll pick this up again later, I’m sure. Right now, I want to get over to my father’s apartment and get this over with.”

Remington slowly released her. He tapped his lips with two fingers and stated, “You know, Laura, I’m sure the man is going to be ecstatic to find out his daughter is pregnant, especially after everything he’s been through.”

Behind the curtain, Laura pulled the robe around her body, tied the cord, and stepped out of the shower. “I guess so,” she groaned. “I just wish I knew what Mother was doing. Knowing her, she’s going to be angry I didn’t tell her first, even though I’ve been trying to get ahold of her.”

Remington glanced down at his wife and puckered his lips appreciatively, “Well, you know Abigail has been softening up just a bit. Maybe she’ll understand.” His eyes continued to stare at the cleavage currently on display before him.

Laura glanced down, readjusted the front of her robe, and tugged the towel off her head. “She’ll understand all right. She’ll understand I told the man who disappeared from our lives for fourteen years before I told her.” She briskly rubbed her hair with the towel and stated, “I’d like to leave in the next half hour, so if you wouldn’t mind, could you pull together something for breakfast this morning?”

Remington reached over and teased the fabric covering her breasts aside slightly. He smacked his lips again, and, with a sideways glance, he commented, “There are some definite perks to pregnancy, Laura.”

Laura groaned again, rolled her eyes, and proceeded to steer Remington out of the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she was fully dressed, her hair pulled back into a tight French braid, and her makeup applied minimally, albeit naturally. She stepped into the living room while she adjusted the thin leather belt around her waist.

“That was quick,” Remington commented. He was just placing two bowls of fresh fruit on the table along with several slices of toast and a jar of jam. He turned around and walked back into the kitchen to retrieve two mugs of coffee. Laura slipped into her chair right before he placed her drink before her. “You look radiant this morning,” he complimented before he brushed his lips across her temple and settled into the seat across from her.

“Thank you. I figured simple was best. Not to mention, we are heading right to the office after, so I wanted to be prepared. We have the meeting at one today with Recovery to go over their proposal,” Laura stated between bites.

Remington chuckled as Laura attacked her dish with gusto. He took several bites of fruit and gestured with his fork, “Laura, you might enjoy your meal more if you slow down a bit.”

Laura immediately began to chew slowly, rolling the piece of cantaloupe around her mouth several times before swallowing it. “I can’t help it if I’m hungry this morning. Besides, the doctor told me I need to be sure to consume extra calories for the baby…” her voice trailed off as she grasped for other reasons. Instead, she focused on taking a sip of her coffee for distraction. 

Remington chuckled again and lowered his utensil, “I was just teasing, Laura. Actually, it’s nice to see you eat with such enthusiasm, considering everything that’s happened in the last few months.”

Laura smoothed her napkin on her lap and studied the stitching on the edges. “Well,” she swallowed, “I think, we… together… have made this transition… easier. After all, you’ve had quite a few changes of your own since May.”

Remington sat back and sighed. “If you mean finally having a birth certificate with my name on it and finding out Daniel was my father, then yes, I supposed you’re correct on that point.”

“Let’s not forget all your cousins back in Ireland. Which, by the way, did you return Paddy’s call?” Laura arched her eyebrow as she turned her attention back to her breakfast.

“I did, as a matter of fact. He mentioned Alexandra was looking into a few colleges here in the States and wanted to know if we could help her out a bit,” Remington informed her.

Laura pinched her brows together and asked, “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous? After all, you’ve only been back in touch with each other for a few months.”

Remington pursed his lips and shook his head. “Absolutely not. I told him if she needed help… guidance… family is family… we would be here to help support her. She’s young, but she’s ambitious. She wants to see a little bit of the world... study. Who are we to stop her?” 

“If you say so. How does Mary feel about her going to school so far away?” Laura questioned as she spread a thick layer of jam on her toast earning another chuckle from her husband. 

“From what Paddy mentioned, she’s only going to be happy if Alex goes to school here in LA. I may have told him we would check in on a regular basis as well,” Remington stated softly. 

Laura concentrated on her toast for a moment, then suggested, “what about the loft?”

“What about it?” Remington replied. 

“What if Alex stayed at the loft? Think about it… It’s the perfect size for her. The neighborhood is safe. There are several colleges close by,” Laura pointed out, ticking off each item on the list as she counted with her fingers. 

Remington sipped his coffee and nodded, “And you’d be all right with her living there?” 

Laura gave him a dimpled grin and stated, “it’s a win-win situation. The loft isn’t going to be left vacant. Plus, Paddy and Mary can have the comfort of knowing Alex is living in a good place. And she is close enough that we can stop by anytime to check on her.”

Remington acknowledged her points with a crooked, toothy grin. “It’s settled then. I’ll give Paddy the good news when we return to the office.”


	2. Chapter 2

Laura and Remington parked the Rabbit outside of John Holt’s apartment building and climbed out. Laura nervously smoothed the front of the simple beige dress she was wearing. “Icy calm, Laura. Remember, this is only your father,” Remington reminded her with a hint of teasing. 

Laura sighed loudly, “That’s why I chose this dress. It’s the first one I bought after my house was burnt down. A reminder of another new chapter of my life.”

“And here I was thinking it’s because you were complaining most of your clothes were beginning to get just a bit uncomfortable in the waist,” Remington tsked. 

Laura laughed, tossed him a sideways glance, and admitted, “That, too.” She slipped her hand into his elbow and declared, “I’m ready when you are.”

Together they made their way to the third floor, and minutes later, Laura rapped at the door using the ring on her right hand for added emphasis. They waited a minute before Laura knocked again. After a few more long seconds, she shrugged her shoulders, “He mustn’t be home. We can come back later. Call first next time, I guess.” 

She started to turn away when they heard a distant male voice calling out from inside, “Hang on! Hang on! I’m coming!”

Laura turned back with a surprised expression, and together they waited. They could hear John muttering as he fumbled with the locks on the door. “Laura! Remington! What a… what brings you by this morning?” He stammered nervously. Remington didn’t miss John furtively glance back over his shoulder. 

“Hello, Dad. Rem and I have some news to tell you. Can we come in?” Laura forced a strained smile on her face. 

“News? Laura… this really isn’t a good time. Can it wait a couple of hours, maybe?” John responded quickly. 

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” Laura insisted as she gently pushed the door open wider. 

“Ummm,” John croaked just before a familiar female voice called out, “Johnny? Did you get rid of whoever was at the door?”

Recognition hit immediately, “Mother?” Laura gasped as Remington also questioned, “Abigail?”

Abigail stepped into view, pulling John’s tattered robe around her small frame. She lifted her chin, and her eyes made contact with a shocked Laura’s. Remington quickly sidestepped John and demanded, “Is this where you’ve been?”

Abigail nervously clutched the robe's neckline together and lifted her chin defiantly, an action Remington immediately recognized.  _ The stubborn Holt women,  _ he thought to himself as he tugged at his ear, waiting for Abigail’s explanation. When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Laura’s been trying to get ahold of you for days now!”

“I can’t check my messages from here,” Abigail retorted. She straightened her shoulders and quickly added, “Besides, I am a grown woman. I can come and go as I please. I don’t need to check in with my children every time I--”

“Decide to shack up?” Laura snapped. She was standing with one hand propped on her hip, the other massaging her forehead.

John stepped forward and put his hand on Laura’s shoulder, “It’s not like that, Loo-Loo. Abigail came to California to reserve a storage unit, so she could start sending a few boxes at a time. I offered her mine since I was no longer going to need it. We were clearing it out, and we started looking at the photo albums of when you kids were young, and well… one thing led to another…” His voice faded as he glanced lovingly back toward Abigail.

“And you reconciled your differences?” Remington inserted with a crooked grin.

John sighed, “Something like that. It just sort of happened. After dinner and a few glasses of wine...”

Abigail stepped closer to John, her feet no longer rooted to the same spot. She reached out and took his hand and admitted, “We’ve done a lot of talking over the last few days.”

“Amongst other things,” Laura snorted.

Abigail blushed a crimson red before she agreed, “Yes, that, too. I forgot how wonderful things were with your father.”

Laura raised her hand as she shook her head, “Spare me the details, Mother. I’ve been worried sick about you, and you’ve been here, in California, for days.”

John put his arm around Abigail’s shoulders and gave her a gentle side hug as he assured Laura, “She’s been perfectly safe with me. Now, what’s so important you had to come all the way over here to tell me?”

Laura looked over at Remington, who returned her nervous glance with a smile and a wink. “Well, Remington and I are here because…” she paused and took a deep breath to continue, “Because we want to tell you…” she faltered again.

“Want to tell us what? Or is this something just for your father?” Abigail demanded lightly.

“No, Abigail, this is for you as well, which is why Laura’s been trying to get in touch with you,” Remington insisted. “Go ahead, Laura,” he encouraged. 

Laura exhaled sharply and began again, “Mother… Dad… Remington and I… well… we…” Laura was exasperated as she tried to find the right words. Instead, she was getting tongue-tied.

Abigail stepped forward and took Laura’s hand in hers. She asked softly, “Are you getting a divorce? Already? Really, Laura, it’s only been a few months… surely you can work out your differences.”

Laura’s mouth dropped, “No! No, we’re not getting a divorce! Why would you even ask that?”

Remington chuckled, folded and unfolded his arms before he added, “I can assure you, Abigail, getting divorced is the last thing on our minds right now.” He scratched his hairline before landing his hand on his chest.

John sat down on the couch and asked, “Then what is it? Are you sick? Moving? Closing the business? What?”

Laura glanced at Remington one last time, took a deep breath, then stated, “I’m pregnant.”

Abigail dropped onto the couch beside John, her hands covering her mouth, completely shocked. “Did I just hear you correctly, Laura? Did you just say you’re pregnant?”

Remington put his arm around Laura’s waist and pulled her to his side with a wide grin, “That she did, Abigail. We found out last week, which is why Laura’s been trying to get in touch with you since Saturday.”

Abigail looked at Laura again and blinked. She gazed at John and whispered, “Our baby is having a baby.” 

John grasped her hands in his and smiled as he repeated, “That’s right. Our baby is having a baby.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh look, they’ve arrived,” Bernice deadpanned from her desk in the lobby. She lifted her chin in Mildred’s direction and added, “Only two hours later than usual. He must really be a bad influence on her.” Mildred snickered from her chair in her office before she went back to tapping away at her keyboard.

“Good morning, Mildred, Ms. Wolfe,” Remington teased with a toothy grin. “I apologize for our tardiness this morning. We had an appointment with Laura’s father.”

Bernice sat back and picked up a nail file. “How is Mr. Holt these days?”

Laura’s mind was still reeling from finding her parents together. Absentmindedly, she stated, “He’s fine. We have work to do.” She paused long enough to glance through Mildred’s open doorway and added, “And we found where my mother’s been hiding.”

Mildred immediately stopped typing. Silence filled the office as the weight of Laura’s words hung in the air. Bernice was the first to gasp, “NO!”

Remington tugged on his ear as he chuckled. “Oh, yes. It seems Abigail and John have had some sort of reconciliation.”

“Sounds like they’ve had some sort of something, Boss,” Mildred joked from her doorway. Leaning against the doorframe, she gave Remington a wink to punctuate her insinuation.

Laura rolled her eyes and groaned softly before questioning, “Are there any messages we should be aware of? After all, we are trying to run a business here.” She adjusted her purse on her shoulder, folded her arms, and waited for a response.

Bernice lifted a single sheet of pink paper and held it out for Laura. “Frances called about forty-five minutes ago. She said she needs to talk to you... Immediately,” she explained before Laura read the message.

Laura glanced over at Remington and sighed. “I guess Mother called her right after we left. Prepare yourself, Mr. Steele.”

Remington furrowed his brow. “Prepare myself? For what?”

“For the onslaught of Frances Piper,” Laura groaned. She took two steps toward her office door when Frances burst through the doors of the office lobby.

“Laura! Laura, why didn’t you tell me?!” Frances rushed across the office and threw her arms around Laura. “Oh, I can’t believe it! My baby sister!”

Suddenly flustered, Laura tried to detangle herself from her sister’s limbs under Mildred and Bernice’s scrutiny. “Frances, can we take this into my office, please?” Laura finally managed to get an arm around Frances’ waist, and together they entered Laura’s office all the while her sister was still carrying on. “When Mother called me, I thought she was kidding. I never expected this!” Laura groaned inwardly as she escorted Frances through the door.

“Boss, what was that all about?” Mildred questioned Remington. 

Remington opened his mouth to speak when he heard Frances shriek from behind Laura’s closed door. “Laura and I have some news to share,” he stated.

Mildred took a step forward, narrowed her eyes, and demanded, “What kind of news?”

Remington took a step back in the direction of his office and held up his hands, “The kind of news I can’t share until Mrs. Steele is ready. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and darted into his office before Mildred or Bernice could question him further. He rapped on Laura’s adjoining door and opened it slowly. Frances rewarded his appearance by throwing her arms around him and crying. “Yes, yes, yes, thank you, Frances,” he grinned uncomfortably. His hysterical sister-in-law was too beside herself to speak, so she continued to ramble incoherently as she held him tightly. Remington glanced over her shoulder at Laura, who was leaning against the windowsill with her arms folded, enjoying the scene before her. “A little help?” Remington whispered.

Laura stepped forward with a smile and gently removed her sister from Remington’s embrace. She sat her down in a chair before she planted herself on the corner of her desk. “Now, Frances, as I was trying to explain, we are still in shock about this ourselves. We only found out last week-” Laura began.

“Last week? You’ve known since last week, and you’re just telling us now?” Frances wailed.

“Frances, Frances, Frances, you must understand. Laura and I were not expecting this whatsoever. I mean, in Ireland, we broached the subject a tad bit, but that was all. This has come as much as a surprise to us as it did you,” Remington assured her. Frances sniffled several times, her shoulders heaving as she tried to get her emotions under control. “Come now. This is happy news,” Remington encouraged as he handed her the pocket square from his jacket pocket and smiled.

“So you didn’t plan this?” Frances squeaked.

Laura gave her sister a weak smile as she shook her head and replied, “No, we definitely didn’t plan this.”

Frances dabbed at her eyes, wiped her nose, and asked, “When are you due?”

Laura unconsciously allowed her hand to travel to her waistline as she stated, “Mid-March, we think. We’re not one hundred percent sure exactly when it all transpired, but the doctor has her own calculations, I guess.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re building that big new house then, isn’t it,” Frances suggested.

Remington couldn’t hide the grin on his face at the mention of the new house. At her last appointment, the doctor calculated the baby was conceived close to the time he had brought Laura to the site of their home. An unexpected rainstorm drove them into the shed, which led to an impromptu rendezvous. “Yes, and the contractor assures us, it shall be completed before Thanksgiving. We have so many reasons to be thankful this year, don’t we, Laura?” Remington tapped a finger against his lips.

Laura stepped forward and slipped her arm around Remington’s waist. “I guess we do, Mr. Steele.” She turned her attention back to her sister and said, “Frances, we haven’t told anyone else just yet, so I would appreciate it if you could keep things quiet. Just for a day or two.”

“You mean I can’t tell Donald?” Frances’s eyes widened at the thought she might have to keep a secret from her husband.

“No. No, you can tell Donald… just please don’t talk about it during your carpool or scout meetings. We don’t want this news getting out to the media. We’d like to keep this as private as possible, that’s all,” Laura explained.

Remington nodded enthusiastically as he added, “We haven’t even told Mildred and Bernice yet.”

“You haven’t?” Frances gasped. 

“No, we wanted to be sure we told Mother and you… and Dad… before we told anyone else,” Laura stated.

“Wait, Dad knows?” Frances asked, suddenly confused.

Laura tipped her head and replied, “Of course. I told him when I told…” Her voice trailed off when a thought occurred to her. “Frances, did Mother call you?”

Frances straightened her shoulders and exhaled, “Of course Mother called me to tell me. I have to say I was surprised to find out you called her when you did. I mean, really, Laura, you know she usually plays bridge at one o’clock on Wednesdays. You were lucky she was home.”

“But, Frances, she wasn’t home,” Laura insisted.

“What do you mean she wasn’t home? Of course, she was home. Where else would she have been?” Frances demanded.

Remington pursed his lips, fingered his tie pin before he smoothed the silk material, and interjected, “Actually, Frances, she is here… in California.”

“That’s impossible,” Frances rebuked.

“No, really. She was with…” Laura stopped when Frances’ head snapped in her direction. 

Frances stared at Laura. “Who? Who was she with this early in the morning?”

Remington scrubbed his chin as he slowly informed her, “She was with John this morning. And the past few days from what we gathered.”

Frances jumped to her feet. “You mean Mother… and Dad… together?”

“Well, I guess you could put it that way.” Remington pursed his lips again to try to hide his smirk.

“I don’t believe it.” Frances folded her arms defiantly.

Laura stepped forward and placed her hands on her sister’s elbows as she stated, “I didn’t want to believe it either, Frances, but the truth is… well, the truth is… Mother walked out wearing Dad’s robe.” Frances covered her mouth as she slowly sunk into the chair behind her. “I know.” Laura shook her head.

“But she hated him… for fourteen years… Mother hated him,” Frances gasped, dumbfounded.

Remington patted her shoulder and stated, “I think circumstances being what they are, she’s forgiven him. After all, he didn’t have much say in the matter, thanks to the mob and the FBI.”

“Frances, I think we should get together in a few days. You know, after all of this has had a chance to sink in,” Laura suggested.

Frances looked up, her expression still displaying her shock at discovering her mother and her father were found together. “Yes, we should do that.” She stood and slowly made her way to the door. Laura held it open for her and guided her into the lobby under Bernice and Mildred’s scrutiny. 

“I’ll give you a call at the end of the week, and we’ll have dinner with Donald and the kids,” Laura suggested.

“Dinner… sure,” a bewildered Frances muttered back as she left the office and headed toward the elevators.

Laura turned back to the intent faces of Bernice and Mildred. She made eye contact with Remington, who was currently leaning against the doorframe. He smiled and gave her a subtle nod. Laura ran a nervous hand down her neck and toyed with the pendant on her necklace before she stated softly, “Mr. Steele and I have an announcement to make.”

“Well, we’re all ears,” Gladys Lynch declared from behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Laura cringed instantly at the sound of Gladys Lynch’s voice. She lifted her shoulders and winced as Gladys instructed, “Go on, Mrs. Steele. We’re waiting.”

Laura slowly turned and plastered a saccharin smile on her face. “Ms. Lynch, what an unexpected surprise. It’s so nice to see you. What brings you to the office today?”

Gladys folded her arms across her body and stated, “I think I’d like to hear your announcement first.”

Remington rushed to Laura’s side, slipping his hand around her waist as he grinned. “Laura was just going to announce the date we’re moving into our new home, that’s all. Nothing earth-shattering as it may be.”

Laura sighed and muttered a soft “thank you” under her breath. “That’s exactly what I was going to say. The date we will be moving as we will have to close the office for a few days to get settled. And it’s going to be right before Thanksgiving, so we were even contemplating closing the office for the entire week,” she rambled loudly.

Bernice and Mildred raised an eyebrow at each other in a silent understanding, quickly jumping in. “That’s great news, Mrs. Steele. You know I was thinking about going up to see my sister in Santa Barbara that week, and I was going to ask for time off anyway.” Mildred stepped forward with a flourish.

“And I was planning on taking a trip up to see Murphy and Sherry in Denver the same week,” Bernice interjected.

Gladys looked around the room before she lifted her chin to glare at Laura and Remington. “You may want to hold off on those plans. You are scheduled to be in court on November seventeenth at nine AM for a master hearing. Here.” She stepped forward and shoved an envelope in Remington’s direction. “We will present all the evidence of the validity of your marriage and subsequent citizenship. If you have not proven within a shadow of a doubt your marriage is one hundred percent legal, you will be placed in custody immediately and deported back to Ireland,” she informed the group. 

He took the envelope tentatively with shaky hands. With a staccato exhale, he asked, “Am I allowed council?”

“It won’t be necessary. There’s nothing they can say that will change the facts,” Gladys stated firmly. “Now, I have nothing further to add, so I will see you in court!” she declared. She turned and stormed off to the elevators leaving everyone in shocked silence.

Laura was the first to move. “Well, now that she’s gone, we can tell you our real news.” She turned to face everyone with a smile. Remington stood, rooted to the spot, staring at the envelope in his hands. Silently, he scrubbed his face with one hand and turned to head into his office without a word. 

“Mr. Steele?” Laura called after him with no response. “Mr. Steele?” she asked again just before he closed the office door, leaving her standing in the foyer with Mildred and Bernice staring at her. With a strained smile, she held one finger up and announced, “Hold that thought.” She rushed to his door, rapped softly, and slipped inside.

Laura found Remington staring out of the windows. “Sooooo,” she blew out a breath. Remington remained silent. “Did you want me to tell them alone, or do you want to join in on the festivities?” she tried. 

“Why does it have to be difficult?” he questioned.

“What?” Laura responded as she took another step closer to him.

“This.” Remington snapped his arm out, his hand still clutching the envelope.

Laura took two more steps forward and shook her head. “Rem, I don’t understand.”

Remington turned to face her, and with a heavy sigh, he settled himself onto the window ledge. “I thought once we showed them everything… my birth certificate, our marriage license, the lovely photo album… we would be done with the lot of them,” he groused as he swung the envelope around.

Laura closed the gap between them and took the envelope from him. She dropped it onto the desk and reached out to cradle his face in her hands. Lifting his chin, she made eye contact and smiled. “We will be done with them… for good. No more surprises. We have to get through one more day, and after that, we won’t have to deal with them ever again.”

Remington leaned into her hands before he reached up and pulled her close to brush his lips across her. “There you go again. Always trying to make everything right for us,” he whispered before pulling her into his arms.

Laura took his hand in hers and placed it on her stomach. “Remember, it’s not just us anymore. There’s someone else we need to think about now.”

Remington’s hand twitched against the cotton material of her dress. He glanced over at the envelope on his desk once more. “You’re right, Mrs. Steele. There is a new chapter of our lives we shall be entering soon enough, and dwelling on Gladys Lynch and the INS isn’t going to stop it,” he assured his wife. 

Laura held him close for another moment before she reminded him, “Mildred and Bernice are waiting. What do you say we make our announcement, Mr. Steele?”

With a grin, Remington stood, dropped his arm around Laura’s shoulders, and slowly steered her toward the door. “Laura, are you serious about closing the office?”

Laura paused, looked up at him, and stated, “Unless you are going to learn how to clone the two of us, I don’t see how we are going to be everywhere we need to be at the same time.”

Remington stopped and smiled once more. “Well, how do you feel about taking off several weeks for the holidays?”

Laura pulled the door open as she admonished him, “Don’t push your luck!”

Laughing, they stepped back into the lobby. Mildred scrambled off the edge of Bernice’s desk. “Boss, Mrs. Steele… don’t let that old meanie, Gladys Lynch get to you! You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Bernice swung a pencil back and forth as she stated, “I’ll slash her tires if it’ll help.” Mildred’s jaw dropped as she glared back at Bernice, shocked at her suggestion. Bernice raised her shoulders and added, “Only if it’ll help.”

Remington held his hand up and assured them, “That won’t be necessary. But we are not going to dwell on Ms. Lynch or the INS or anything else related to that. Mrs. Steele and I have some very important news to share with you both.” He gave Laura a small squeeze against his side before he announced, “We’ll be taking some extra time off.” 

Laura gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. “What Mr. Steele means--” Laura interjected, but Remington stopped her. 

“In March… Laura and I will be taking extra time off in March,” he stated cryptically.

Mildred folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight to one hip. “What do you mean, you’ll be taking time off in March? Is this some sort of joke?” She paused and leaned to the opposite side and grilled, “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

“We’re trying to, Mildred, but Mr. Steele is taking his sweet old time getting to the punchline.” Laura raised her hands. She glanced over at Remington one more time then stated, “What Mr. Steele is trying to say is--”

“We are having a baby!” he announced loudly with a clap of his hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**This chapter rated NC-17. If you are under 18 or are not comfortable, please move to the next chapter.**

That evening, Laura sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating the events of the day. She was lost in thought as she ran a brush through her hair when Remington stepped out of the bathroom, his toothbrush dangling from the side of his mouth. "I thought our announcements went over well today, don't you?" he stated happily.

"Huh?" Laura lifted her chin and blinked at him, confused.

"Our announcements today… I think, overall, everyone was excited for us," he clarified as he swiped his teeth once more. He disappeared into the bathroom as he continued. "I think Mildred is over the moon for us based on the way she lifted you up and spun you around. I didn't think she had that in her," he joked, his voice muffled.

Laura pulled the brush through her hair once more. "I guess."

Remington leaned his head through the open door and exclaimed, "You guess? Laura, what is going on in that lovely head of yours?"

Laura dropped the brush on the bed beside her and sighed, "I don't know. Everything seems too… too… happy all of a sudden. Too many pieces are falling into place. I'm afraid it's really a house of cards waiting to collapse."

Remington leaned against the doorway and wiped his mouth with the towel slung around his neck. He twisted his jaw as he decided how he wanted to approach her mood. He gave his head a sharp tilt before he crossed the room and sat beside her on the bed. He took one hand in his and tapped it gently with the other hand as he assured her, "Love, I think you are overthinking all of this. Mildred's all excited… Bernice almost cried… Frances… well… Frances did enough crying for everyone. Your Mother… she seemed happy, and your father… I guess he's still shocked about everything else that's been going on around him… but the point is… I honestly believe… in my heart… you're waiting for something bad to happen."

"No…" Laura's voice faded as she shook her head. She didn't know who she was trying to convince more, her husband or herself.

Remington pursed his lips, tapped her hand once more, and declared, "I think we should get some rest, and then you'll feel better in the morning. We can get a blissful night's sleep, and tomorrow, you'll see… things are looking up." He took the hairbrush from Laura and returned it to its usual spot on the bureau. He turned back and noticed Laura hadn't moved from the place she was in. "Come on," he encouraged.

Laura sighed softly, "Maybe you're right. Only problem is, I don't know if I can sleep. My mind is spinning with everything we have to do over the next few months." She stood and moved to her side of the bed, where she folded the spread down.

"Like what?" Remington asked as he mimicked her actions before he slipped under the covers. He leaned his elbow on the pillows and propped his head up to listen.

"For starters, we have to start packing both here and the loft," Laura began as she settled herself on the bed beside him.

Remington nodded swiftly, "We'll get started straight away. I'll have Fred pick up some boxes and deliver them to both the loft and here."

Laura tipped her head to peek at Remington intently watching her. She snuggled down closer to him, his musky scent permeating her senses, subconsciously relaxing her. "All right then, we have to start looking at daycares in the area," she continued.

"Daycares? So soon?" Remington gasped.

"Well, from what Frances told me, we should start as soon as possible," Laura explained.

Remington bit his bottom lip and nodded as he slowly drawled, "Frances… right."

"Then there's the offer you gave Paddy to help Alex find a school nearby and get her settled. Mother said the sale of the house is set for November twentieth, which falls on a Friday, so I'm sure as soon as she signs the papers and gets the check, she will be flying here to California. Most likely, she'll have to have her things shipped by movers here, and then once she's here, she'll have to stay at a hotel for a few days, I'm sure," Laura continued. She stared at the ceiling as her mind whirled.

Remington reached over and traced his fingertip down the side of her face, following the contour of her cheekbone to her chin before he turned her slightly and brushed his lips across hers. "Anything else?" he inquired softly before whispering kisses across her forehead.

"Um… well… there's the holidays…" Laura stuttered, distracted.

"What about the holidays?" he whispered as his lips found their way back to hers and his fingers stroked the sensitive skin on her neck. Laura sighed happily against her husband's warm lips before she reached up and pulled him closer without answering his question. "I guess the holidays will have to wait," he teased when she ran her fingers through the whorls of hair on his chest. "Got something else on your mind now?" he countered with a crooked grin.

Laura slid her hand across his ribs to his back and played with the waistband of his pajama pants as she replied, "Maybe."

"Maybe," he repeated before sealing his lips against hers once more. His skillful fingers began releasing the buttons on her satin nightshirt while his tongue probed the depths of her mouth. He managed to free the material enough to expose her small but full breasts. He cupped one fleshy globe gently and teased her nipple into a pebbly point before covering it with his mouth. Laura couldn't resist dropping her head further against her pillows and moaning softly. Remington moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention and drawing the same soft moan from Laura's lips.

Laura buried her hands in the thick strands of dark hair on his head as he suckled and teased her sensitive skin. "Rem," she whispered in a deep, sultry voice. He lifted his head, and blue, desire-filled eyes met passionate, chocolate brown ones. "Lose the pants," she commanded in the same sultry tone.

"Well, well, well, Mrs. Steele, it appears your mind has other things on it then," he chaffed with a smile. He rolled onto his back and swiftly pulled off his pajama pants as Laura removed her nightshirt before she reached back out for him again. "And, I have to say, I don't mind this sudden change," he puckered his lips once more and captured her lips again.

Their tongues fought for dominance as their hands traveled over now-familiar skin terrain. Remington shifted his hips closer to his wife just before she tucked one foot over his legs. His hand traversed the soft skin of her thigh to her knee and back before his long fingers kneaded her muscular glute. Laura's hands explored his shoulders before her fingers were buried in his thick hair once again. Without words, Remington rolled onto his back, taking Laura with him until she straddled him. He was fascinated by her breasts, prominently displayed above him. He reached up, held the weight of each in his hands, and ran his thumb across the pert points once more, drawing a moan of ecstasy from Laura.

She balanced herself above his engorged shaft for a second before ensconcing him in her hot, velvety passage. Remington dropped his hands to her small waist when she began to move. Laura's gasps of pleasure brought a smile to his face. He watched as she dropped her chin and focused solely on where their bodies joined. He knew how close she was simply by the tell-tale pink coloring that now flushed her skin, starting at the top of her breasts and working its way upward. He pushed himself to a sitting position to capture one bouncing breast with his lips before her hands grabbed at his shoulders roughly, and she cried out. He could feel her muscles tensing and rippling around his shaft, still buried deep within her. When Laura dropped her head back to pant for air, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He shifted enough to slip free from her body, giving him the space he needed to roll them.

With Laura on her back, still panting, he worshipped her freckled skin with sweet kisses. He followed a path between her heaving breasts and paid special attention to the bump he noticed just below her belly button. He couldn't resist rubbing his fingertips over the slight protrusion before he pressed his lips against her skin and whispered, "Hello, baby." His passion renewed by the evidence of their love safely tucked inside Laura's body, he crawled back to her lips and covered her body with his own. Laura wrapped her legs around his hips and sprinkled his face with kisses before he entered her again. "I love you, Laura," he breathed. He buried himself in her with one shift of his hips, and he captured her cry with his lips.

"Oh, Rem," she breathed heavily when he began to move, slowly at first. "I love you," she whispered against the pulse point on his neck. She nipped his skin along his collarbone, encouraging him to speed up his movements.

Remington pushed up onto his elbows and rolled his hips. Laura met him for every thrust, and together they fought the uphill battle until they found their way to paradise together. Laura cried out only a breath before Remington exploded within her. The continued pulse of her body milked him until he collapsed beside her. He immediately rolled onto his back, pulling her with him until she rested against his heaving chest.

He brushed loose strands of damp hair off her forehead. He dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head and smiled, "You've never been more beautiful, Laura."

Laura pushed up to study his face, utterly baffled. "What do you mean?"

"You don't see it?" he questioned lovingly. Laura stared at him again, still confused. Remington reached down and covered her belly with his hand as he whispered, "Our love… right here…"

Laura covered his hand with her own and brushed her lips against his temple. "I understand you now. I wasn't sure if it was just me seeing something no one else could see," she whispered against his forehead.

"As I've said before, you are the loveliest of lovelies and more beautiful than the sunrise," Remington assured her. Blushing, Laura settled against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pressed his lips to the top of her head, closed his eyes, and together they drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Remington sat at his desk, his feet propped up on the corner, reading the morning paper when the intercom buzzed. He reached over and held down the button as he reminded, "Ms. Wolfe, I thought I asked not to be disturbed for the next hour."

"And Laura asked me to remind you to call Fred about the boxes," Bernice groaned.

"The boxes can wait an hour," Remington countered playfully as he lowered his feet and awaited her next jab.

At her desk, Bernice shifted the phone to her other ear and stated, "But Laura wants them delivered to the loft this afternoon so she can start packing."

Remington grinned, ran his hand down the front of his tie, and asked, "Ms. Wolfe, who's the boss here?"

Without missing a beat, Bernice replied, "Laura. Now, order the boxes, so we don't have to listen to her complain tomorrow."

Remington pursed his lips and nodded in agreement. "True. Very true, Ms. Wolfe. I'll do that now."

Bernice smiled as she continued, "Good because Laura also asked me to remind you, you have a meeting with the builders at one today at the house."

Remington checked his watch. It was just before ten. Confused, he asked, "Um, Ms. Wolfe, where is Mrs. Steele?"

Bernice scratched her head gently with the pencil in her hand as she informed him, "Laura and Mildred just left to head down to the licensing bureau. Today is Mildred's big test day… remember?"

Remington chuckled, "Ah, yes. How could I forget? Our infallible Ms. Krebs has been worried sick about this test today." He smoothed his hair back before toying with his tie pin. "She's going to do just fine, I'm sure of it," he added.

"Watching her in action the last few weeks, I'm going to agree with you. She's one tough cookie, that's for sure. Where did you ever find her?" Bernice wondered.

"Um… IRS Fraud squad, I believe," Remington laughed nervously before he quickly interjected, "But enough about Mildred… I better call Fred before I end up on Mrs. Steele's bad side this evening. She might actually cook for me for a change as punishment."

Bernice coughed loudly to hide her obvious laugh. "One more thing. There was a message on the machine this morning. Someone named Vic," she informed him.

Remington leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes upward. "Was that all? Just a name?"

"No… he mentioned he needed Max's help, whatever that means," she stated. Remington snapped forward in his chair, banging his elbow on the desk in the process. Bernice heard him curse under his breath, so she asked, "I take it that means something to you?"

"Ah… yes… it does. Listen, did Vic leave a phone number perchance?" Remington stammered as he searched his desk for a writing instrument.

Bernice shifted the phone once more and reached over to the message pad on the corner of her desk. "Already written down. Is there something you aren't telling me?"

Remington shook his head. "No!" he insisted emphatically.

Bernice tipped her head slightly and questioned, "Is there something you're not telling Laura?"

"Absolutely not!" he replied immediately. "How can I be hiding something from her when I don't even know what it is I'm supposed to be hiding?"

Bernice tapped her pencil on her desk several times as she contemplated his question. "Fine. But don't think I'm not going to tell Laura about this message," she informed him.

"Fine. As a matter of fact, I'll tell Mrs. Steele myself! Now, can you bring me that number, or do I have to come get it?" Remington snapped. Instead of a snarky reply, he heard a loud click in his ear, and moments later, his door opened. Bernice strolled into his office with a pink slip of paper dangling from her fingertips. "Thank you, Ms. Wolfe," he nodded. He stood and met her on the other side of his desk. He skimmed the neatly written message for any additional information then glanced up. "Nothing else? Just this?" he asked.

"Just that." Bernice pressed her lips tightly together. They stood and stared at each other, both waiting for another remark or question. Finally, Bernice broke the silence. "So… who's Vic?"

Remington leaned back against the edge of his desk and waved the small square of paper in his hand. "Victor Boyd is… well, for lack of a better term… an old friend. He and I ran a few jobs together well before I met Laura," he tried to explain.

"Wait… Victor Boyd… as in the guy who just got arrested for killing that gallery owner?" Bernice's jaw dropped.

"I don't know all the specific details, but if that gallery owner was an art dealer, then most likely it's the same Victor Boyd," Remington confirmed. "But," he raised a finger to punctuate his next statement, "Murder is not and has never been part of Vic's MO."

Bernice folded her arms and challenged, "When was the last time you talked to Mr. Boyd?"

Remington studied the floor by his feet before he admitted, "It's been some time since Vic and I last shared a pint, but there are some things about people's character that even time doesn't change."

"Like how likely he would be to murder someone?" Bernice offered.

"Ms. Wolfe, let me spare you another breath. Vic's mother was murdered in cold blood during a robbery at the shop where she worked when he was a young lad. Although the life of crime seemed to find its way under his skin, he vowed he would never put a family through the heartache he felt. Robbing the wealthy was one thing… murder is quite another," Remington informed her with a solemn tone. Bernice's mouth formed a near-perfect O at his admission. "So, when you ask if I think he murdered the gallery owner, I can say, hands down, that the Vic Boyd I knew would never perform such a heinous act!"

Bernice managed to close her mouth and nod in agreement. "Point taken. But why would he be calling you now? And who's Max?"

Remington scratched at his jawline for a moment and smiled. "Max is another pseudonym I've used. Another time, another place."

"Uh-huh," Bernice grunted.

"But, once again, I'll remind you, as Laura has reminded me on several occasions, that was the old me. I am now and forever will be Remington Steele, and thanks to Daniel, I have a legitimate birth certificate to prove it," he boasted.

Bernice sized him up head to toe before she shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever you say… Mr. Steele." She turned and left him alone in the office, staring at the phone message.

"Vic… what have you found yourself involved in?" he pondered softly. He checked his watch and debated what he should do. Finally, he settled himself down in his chair and dialed Fred's familiar number. "Fred, Steele here. Listen, can you pick up some moving boxes for Mrs. Steele and myself? As many as you can fit in the limo. Oh, and drop them off at the loft. Thank you, my good man." He dropped the phone onto the cradle and drummed his fingers on the desk nervously.

The minutes ticked by as Remington hemmed and hawed over waiting for Laura to return and be present when he called his old friend or making the call first and filling her in later. He finally decided he had a better plan, so he lifted the receiver and dialed the number Bernice gave him. After several rings, a gruff voice answered the phone. "Vic?" he asked.

"Who wants to know?" the gravelly voice returned sharply.

"Vic, you old son of a gun. Ah, what have you gotten yourself involved in now?" Remington sighed when recognition set in.

"Max? Max, I need your help," Vic begged on the other end of the phone.

Remington twisted the phone wire between his fingers and informed his friend, "Meet me at my office… say four o'clock today? I assume since you left a message earlier, you know how to find me."

"Four o'clock. Got it. Thanks, Max. I knew I could trust you to help," Vic sighed.

Remington shook his head and stated, "I don't know if we can help, Vic, but we can at least listen."


	7. Chapter 7

Laura and Remington sat on large paint buckets at a makeshift table in their nearly completed home. The builder and contractor were going over the checklist of items that still needed to be completed.

"Are you sure you don't want the decorator to come back in?" the contractor asked.

Laura smiled at Remington and shook her head, "Nope. We've decided we want to paint all the walls the neutral colors we've already chosen and go from there. We like things simple, don't we, Mr. Steele."

Remington nodded, "Yes we do, Mrs. Steele." He surveyed the open space, and his eyes fell on the backsplash in the kitchen. Horrified, he scrambled to his feet and demanded, "What is this atrocity on the walls of our kitchen, Laura?"

"What do you mean?" she questioned as she followed him across the room.

Remington thrust his hands at the wall and snapped, "That! That is not the tile we picked out!"

Laura frowned as she stared at the black and white tile on the wall. "Are you sure? It looks familiar…" she trailed off.

"I'm quite certain I would never put something that looks like… like… subway tile on the walls of my kitchen. Besides, this is a marble countertop, not granite," Remington insisted with a dramatic eye roll. He folded his arms close to his chest and tucked his hands under his arms with only his thumbs left out. He moved one hand and flicked at his chin for a moment, completely agitated before returning his hand where it was.

Laura gave the contractor a strained look and asked, "Are you sure this is the tile we picked?"

"Yes, ma'am. I got it all right here on my work order. You ordered two types of tiles for this floor. Black and white, three by six and four by eight tiles, and Alaskan white granite," he stated. He tapped the stack of papers on the clipboard in his hand.

Laura forced a smile and held her hand out as she asked, "Can I see those?"

"See for yourself! We ordered what you asked for." The contractor shoved the clipboard in her direction, scratched his head, and adjusted his baseball cap. "I'm telling ya. It's all right there."

Laura studied the pages before her until finally, an idea struck her. She crooked her finger and gestured at her husband. "Mr. Steele, I have a thought. Follow me."

"Really, Laura? Now? Shouldn't we be figuring out how to fix this… atrocious disaster on our kitchen wall?" he groaned.

Laura wiggled her finger once more and stated, "I think I know where your Alaskan white granite is." She took two steps away from him when she heard him grumbling.

"My Alaskan white granite is supposed to be in the kitchen. The simple blends of black and white. I don't ask for much," he complained with an added hmph.

Laura rolled her eyes dramatically and smiled at the contractor and builder as they stared at the couple, confused. She took her husband's hand and tugged him toward the end of the hallway where their new office would be. She stopped at a closed door and placed her hand on the doorknob. "If I'm not mistaken, your Alaskan white granite is in here."

Remington pinched his brows together and stated, "Impossible! If _I'm_ not mistaken, based on the plan we've both agreed on, this is the powder room." Laura twisted the knob and pushed the door open, revealing the contents of the room inside. Remington gasped, "My Alaskan white granite! On a vanity?" He clutched at his chest with one hand while he steadied himself with the other against the doorframe.

Laura stepped into the small half-bath and surveyed the space. With a shrug of her shoulders, she commented, "I think I like it. It's clean, simple, elegant." She glanced up at Remington's shocked expression and added, "Just like you, dear."

Remington's mouth gaped open before he collected himself and stormed back to the kitchen. He pointed to the wall and exclaimed loudly, "I simply cannot have this in my kitchen. I won't have any reminders of the London Underground staring at me while I prepare our meals, Laura. This has to go."

Laura sauntered back into the main area where the two men were watching their every move. She handed the clipboard back to the contractor and informed him, "You got the request backward. The tile was supposed to be on the wall of the powder room, and the granite was the kitchen countertop with a matching backsplash."

The contractor adjusted his baseball cap again and refuted, "That's impossible! Joey wrote the order out right here." He flipped through several pages before he pulled out one smaller sheet and read aloud, "Alaskan white granite…" he stopped, and his face became bright red as he mumbled the next phrase, "for the kitchen counters." He peered up sheepishly at Remington's fuming face and Laura's smug one as he apologized, "Gee, I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened."

The builder took the clipboard from the contractor and promptly smacked him on the head with it. "I told you… these aren't the people you make mistakes with! What the hell is wrong with you!?" The contractor immediately balled up his fist while he grabbed ahold of the builder's shirt.

Remington rushed forward and grabbed the contractor's arm. "Now, now, gentlemen, I'm sure we can resolve this without resorting to any more violence," he tried to appease them.

The contractor struggled against Remington's grip, "I didn't screw this up on purpose! I don't know what happened!"

Laura reached out and patted the contractor on the chest lightly as she assured him, "It's not that bad."

Remington, still struggling with the contractor's arm, countered, "Not that bad? Laura… Alaskan white granite in the loo?"

"I like it, and that's final, Lambchop," she stated firmly as she leveled her stare into Remington's eyes. She raised one eyebrow to punctuate her words.

Remington slowly released the contractor's arm and brushed his hands down the front of his shirt to smooth away any imaginary wrinkles. "Fine," he nodded with pursed lips. "Whatever Mother wants, Mother gets," he stated sarcastically.

Laura exhaled and puffed a loose strand of hair out of her face before she suggested, "Let's see what the bedrooms look like, shall we?" She jutted her elbow for Remington to link his hand into, and together they made their way back to the staircase near the front door. Remington released her arm to allow her to ascend the stairs before him.

Together they explored the second floor of their home. Remington couldn't help be impressed by the craftsmanship on the ornate decorations inlaid in the wood floor of the master bedroom. He wandered through the two over-sized walk-in closets and teased, "Will this be enough space for your things, Laura?"

Laura stood in the center of one closet and reached her arms out on either side of her. "This is bigger than the bathroom in my loft," she gasped in amazement.

"Yes, well, if we were going to do this, it was best we did it right, don't you think?" he teased before he pulled her into his arms. "But I would still like it better if the Alaskan white granite was where it belonged," he admitted.

Laura hugged him tightly, lifted her chin, and replied, "I don't care where it is, as long as you're in my arms."

Remington brushed his lips across hers sweetly before dipping her to the side in one swift move. "Well, then, love, I look forward to when we finish this damn place and move in. I believe you mentioned something about christening every room, eh?" he joked with a toothy grin before he covered her lips with his one more time.

When they finally separated, and Laura was righted on her feet, she placed her hand on his chest to steady herself. "Frances said something about christening every room… so with that in mind, I say we check out the jacuzzi tub in the master bath. Maybe we could start there?" she puckered her lips.

Remington wrapped his arm around her one last time and bounced his eyebrows jokingly, "Well, well, Mrs. Steele. It sounds like you have a plan of attack in mind."

"Something like that." Laura winked.


	8. Chapter 8

"Mr. Boyd, can you explain again why you were arrested?" Laura questioned. She was leaning against Remington's desk with her hands on either side of her for balance. Her ankles were crossed, and she studied her shoes while she waited for an answer.

Vic Boyd sighed loudly. "I told you… I broke into the gallery to get the cash from the safe. I heard from a guy this event was cash only, so I figured it would be a big score," he stated. "The guy was already dead when I got there. I didn't even see him on the floor until after I opened the safe," he insisted.

"Which is why your fingerprints were on the safe," Remington inserted.

"Right… you believe me, Max. Don't you?" Vic pleaded.

Laura raised her chin and leveled her eyes at Remington as she questioned, "Do you believe him?"

Remington leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Steele. I believe Vic broke into the gallery to pilfer the coffers, so to speak, but no, I don't believe he killed anyone."

Laura uncrossed her ankles and asked, "Why do the police think you did it? Did you have any interaction with the deceased before?"

"Nah, it wasn't like that. Actually, that's why they let me out on bail because they really didn't have enough proof I did it. Only that one detective seemed pretty convinced it was me, and he told me he is going to try and prove it," Vic tossed his hand in the air, annoyed.

"Which detective is that?" Laura wondered, her mind mentally making notes.

Vic scratched his scruffy beard, "Janis... Joseph or something like that."

Remington immediately offered, "Jarvis?"

"Jackass is more like it," Vic confirmed. "He kept asking me the same question over and over and over. Then he'd pretend like he forgot the answer and ask me again. How does a man that incompetent even keep a job like that?"

Laura pushed off the desk and moved to stand beside her husband, "We are quite familiar with Detective Jarvis and his methods. He's actually very smart, but sometimes he doesn't see beyond what's right in front of him without a little help."

"Quite right, Mrs. Steele. Vic, is there anything else you can tell us? Anything you might've noticed?" Remington blinked.

Vic shook his head, "The money was already gone when I got the safe open."

Surprised, Remington responded, "It was?"

"Yeah. The police think I took the money before he even got it into the safe, but it wasn't, I swear," Vic insisted emphatically. "When I spun the dial, it was already unlocked. There was nothing but a few papers in the safe, and I didn't touch those."

Laura thought for a moment before she offered, "Mr. Boyd, how do we know… how does the police know… you didn't just take the money and hide it somewhere?"

Vic leaned forward and jerked his thumb in Laura's direction as he asked Remington, "Max, you sure she's with you?"

Remington laughed loudly and assured him, "Ah, yes, my wife doesn't always think beyond the issue at hand." He turned to Laura and stated, "What Vic is trying to point out is if he did, in fact, take the money, Detective Jarvis wouldn't have found him so easily."

"I'd be sitting on a sundrenched beach in the Caribbean, living the high life for a while," Vic added.

Laura folded her arms defensively and asked, "So how much money are we talking about then?"

"Lady, I'm not sure what Max has told you about me… but if I scored a half-mil, I wouldn't be living in the flophouse I'm in right now. You catch my drift?" Vic informed her before he inserted a stick of chewing gum in his mouth and chomped loudly.

"A half-mil? As in five hundred thousand?" Laura gasped.

Remington stood and patted her arm as he stepped around her and said, "Very good, Laura. You're beginning to get the hang of this. Maybe you should think about becoming a detective." As Laura glared at him angrily, he reached his hand out to Vic and assured him, "Let Mrs. Steele and I talk things over, and we'll have a chat with Detective Jarvis to see what he has to say."

"And then you'll get back to me?" Vic suggested, hopefully.

"Well, that depends on what Detective Jarvis has to say. Right, Mr. Steele?" Laura interjected angrily.

Remington glanced over at Laura, and based on the tight line of her lips, he knew she was suspicious of Victor Boyd. He took a breath and carefully replied, "We will weigh all the evidence as we see it, Vic, and get back to you as soon as we can." He held his hand out when Vic stood up and grasped his old friend's hand tightly. "Give us a day or two, and we'll get back to you."

Vic stood and scrutinized Remington's face, then Laura's stern one. "I'm trusting you can help me, Max. You've never let me down in the past," he pleaded.

Remington guided Vic to the door as he promised him, "I'll do my best. We'll be in touch." He watched Vic leave the office through the glass doors before he closed his office door and turned back to face Laura. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know. She was angry. He bit his bottom lip and shoved his hands in his pants pockets as he waited for her to unload on him with both barrels.

Laura stared at her husband and demanded, "Why did you just tell him we would help him?"

"I didn't say we would help him, Laura. I simply assured him we would talk to Jarvis and see what we could do," Remington corrected her.

"You really think he didn't do it?" she needed to know.

Remington shook his head, "No. I think he broke in there, just like he said, and found that poor man, dead on the floor. I know Vic. He's not a killer. A thief, yes. A killer… not in a million years." Laura rubbed her brow with two fingers. After several minutes, Remington questioned softly, "Head hurt? Could I get you some water? Aspirin?"

Laura folded her arms again and corrected him, "I can't take aspirin, remember?"

"Ah," he sighed. He took several steps forward and put his hands on her upper arms. "I'm telling you, Laura, Jarvis has the wrong man. Why do you think he couldn't hold him? He didn't have enough evidence, just like Vic said. So tomorrow morning, let's go down to police headquarters, have a conversation with Detective Jarvis, and see what he has to say."

Laura looked up into his soft blue eyes. She knew, just by the look on his face, he believed his friend was innocent. "Fine. Tomorrow morning we talk to Jarvis," she agreed. "But, if he has any proof," she paused when Remington's mouth dropped open, "any proof at all, we back off and allow the police to handle it. Agreed?"

Remington snapped his mouth closed and nodded. "I'm not wrong, Laura. I promise you I'm not wrong."

Laura slipped her arms around him and slid into his embrace. "I hope not," she whispered softly.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Mr. Steele! Miss Holt!" Detective Jarvis called across the busy squad room.

Remington waved with a toothy grin. "Detective Jarvis!" He glanced over at Laura and noticed the look on her face. "Smile, Laura. We both want to get through this as swiftly as possible, and a sour face will only trigger the good detective into believing something is wrong," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth while he watched Det. Jarvis wind his way through the desks and people separating them. Laura forced a smile when he got closer.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you both here. What can I do for you?" Det. Jarvis answered jovially when he finally reached the front counter.

Remington glanced around the busy bullpen and observed, "Is there a place we can talk privately?"

Det. Jarvis narrowed his eyes and studied them for a moment before he nodded, "Yeah… yeah, we can talk in my office." He gestured with his hand for them to follow him, and a few minutes later, they were in his office at the back of the squad room. Jarvis settled himself into his office chair as he waited for Laura and Remington to sit. "So, Miss Holt, what brings you by my neck of the woods. It's not your usual stomping grounds," he pointed out.

"Well, Detective Jarvis, Mr. Steele and I are working on a case and thought you might have some insight," Laura informed him. "And it's Mrs. Steele now," she added as she fingered the hollow of her throat with her left hand, placing her wedding rings on display.

Jarvis leaned back in his chair and scratched his head, jostling his light brown curls, "Well, I'll be." He closed his mouth and swallowed, his Adam's apple bouncing lightly. He gave them a grin and quickly added, "I guess congratulations are in order, although I'm surprised I didn't read anything in the paper about this."

Remington lowered his lanky frame down and shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair. "Thanks, Jarvis. We did our best to keep this low-key. No reason to alert the media or anything." He reached down and unbuttoned his suit jacket while he waited for Laura to speak up.

"Mr. Steele has a fan-base apparently, and they might get upset to find out he's off the market," Laura inserted with a chuckle.

"I have to say. This really does shock me. I mean, I didn't take you two for a couple… if you know what I mean," Jarvis continued.

Remington held up one hand and assured him, "No harm, no foul. Now, if we could get down to business…" He allowed his voice to trail off to try to get Jarvis to focus.

"Oh, sure, sure. What can I do for you, folks?" Jarvis apologized brusquely.

Laura sat up straighter and dove right in. "What can you tell us about Victor Boyd?"

"Wow, Miss Holt… pardon me… Mrs. Steele… Victor Boyd?" Jarvis sat back, astonished. "That's an active investigation… I'm not sure how much I can disclose."

Remington straightened his tie and stated, "Mr. Boyd has come to us, requesting our assistance in this matter. He insists he didn't steal the money, never mind kill that poor man."

Jarvis fiddled with his jacket for a moment. He patted his pockets as he searched each one until he finally came up with his pipe. He promptly placed it in his mouth with one hand and proceeded to light the chamber with a small lighter. He puffed several times until the air was filled with the aromatic smell of tobacco. "Well, I think you may have your wires crossed up just a little bit, Mr. Steele. Mr. Boyd's fingerprints were found all over the safe. Not to mention, Stefan Dubois' body was lying on the floor only a few feet away," Jarvis spouted.

Laura began to cough, the irritating smell of the tobacco assaulting her sinuses. She covered her midsection with one hand protectively as she waved the other in front of her face. "Detective Jarvis… if you wouldn't mind…" she choked out between coughs.

"Oh, sorry about that," Jarvis apologized. He pressed his thumb firmly over the bowl and watched as Laura covered her mouth as her face became ashen. "I can open the window if it would help," he offered.

Remington, suddenly aware of Laura's discomfort, jumped to her defense, "If you wouldn't mind. I'm not exactly sure what's going on with my wife at the moment." He turned and scanned her with his eyes before he asked, "Are you all right?"

Laura nodded and weakly replied, "I will be. I think we just figured out something makes me sick."

Jarvis slid the window behind him open a few inches and stated, "I'm real sorry about that, Mrs. Steele. I should know better than to light this in the office. My sister yelled at me the other day about it because she's pregnant and all the smells-" He abruptly stopped and studied Laura carefully. He finally noticed her hand at her midsection and whispered loudly, "Are you pregnant, Mrs. Steele? Is that why everything was so hush-hush?"

Laura waved her hand around once more, catching her breath. "No, that's not the reason everything was hush-hush. We sort of eloped back in May and renewed our vows in Ireland in June with our families there. I'm just about three months along, so you figure out the math," she snapped.

Jarvis smiled, and with a playful tone, he added, "A honeymoon baby. I get it."

Laura groaned as she rolled her eyes, thoroughly annoyed with Detective Jarvis. "Now, back to Victor Boyd," she added in an attempt to redirect the conversation.

Jarvis bobbed his head several times, "I wish I could tell you more, but as I said before, it's an open investigation, and I can't really talk about it."

Remington stood and reached across Det. Jarvis' desk. "We appreciate it, Jarvis. If you don't mind, I'm going to get Laura outside for some fresh air." He gave the detective's hand a solid squeeze and turned back to help Laura out of her seat. "Oh, one more thing, Detective. Can you tell us who found the body?" he inquired when Laura was finally on her feet.

"Yeah, it was his son, Emmett, Emmett Dubois. He went to check on his father when he didn't answer the phone," Jarvis offered.

"Thank you, Detective Jarvis," Laura coughed out. She covered her mouth as she fought the nauseous feeling in her throat.

Remington guided Laura through the door of Jarvis' office as he thanked him once more. "I'm sure we'll be speaking again soon, Jarvis," Remington gave him a weak smile before he turned his complete attention to Laura. "Let's get you outside, love, into some fresh air."

Outside, Laura took several deep breaths, inhaling through her nose and exhaling slowly from her mouth. "Jarvis wasn't much help," she admitted between breaths.

"Actually, he was," Remington disagreed. He rubbed her back a few times. "Are you feeling better now? I can take you right back to the apartment if you're not feeling well."

Laura blew out another breath, "No, I'm feeling better now. What do you mean he was helpful? He didn't tell us anything."

"On the contrary, my lovely bride, he did. He told us who found the body," Remington replied cryptically as he draped his arm around Laura's shoulders and buried his other hand in his pants pocket.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Remington and Laura rode to the office, discussing what little they knew about the case. Remington did his best to fill Laura in on Vic's past jobs as he knew them. On more than one occasion, Laura would interject with questions for clarification. As they rode the elevator to their office, a thought struck Laura. She reached out and grabbed Remington's arm as she uttered, "Why didn't Vic wear gloves?"

Remington scratched his chin, tipped his head to the side, and asked, "What was that, Laura?"

"Vic. I don't understand why he didn't wear gloves. I mean, he had to know the police could trace his fingerprints," she observed.

Together they stepped out of the elevator. Remington tugged his ear twice and politely said hello to the couple walking by them. He held the door open and waved to Bernice with, "Good morning, Ms. Wolfe." He called into Mildred's open office door, "Good morning, Mildred." Without waiting for a reply from either woman, he escorted Laura into his office and dropped down onto the couch. Laura chose to settle herself onto one of the overstuffed chairs across from him.

"Well?" she prompted. She rested one elbow on her knee and waited for his reply.

Remington smoothed his hands on his pant legs and pursed his lips. "Vic was a good thief, don't get me wrong, but when it came to cracking a safe, he never quite got the hang of it with gloves on. He, ah, he used to pull his gloves off, spin the dial, then wipe it all down when he was done," he explained.

"So, he didn't pick up your skillset, in other words," Laura teased with a smile.

"Laura, you cut me to the quick. I spent years mastering that one particular skill, and not everyone can get the knack of it. Vic… well, Vic has other traits better than mine." Remington clutched at his chest dramatically.

Laura gave him a crooked grin. "Why, Mr. Steele, are you admitting you might not be the master criminal I thought you were?"

"On the contrary, Mrs. Steele, I'm merely pointing out the difference in our strengths and weaknesses," he replied with a huff.

Laura raised her eyebrows playfully and asked, "And what weakness might that be?" She leaned forward to get closer to her husband.

Remington sensed his wife was now teasing him and leaned forward to meet her halfway. "Laura, my love, the only weakness I seem to have lately is you," he assured her before he slid his hand along her jawline and pressed his lips to hers. Before he could deepen the kiss, they heard Bernice cough from the doorway. Remington gave her a glare, sat back slowly, and asked, "Ms. Wolfe, what can we do for you?"

Bernice propped her hand on her hip and announced, "The military is here to see you."

"Me?" Remington gasped. "The military?" He looked at Laura, panic written all over his face.

"Did they say what they wanted?" Laura questioned.

Bernice pointed in their direction and stated firmly, "You."

Laura turned her attention back to Remington. She stood slowly and held her hand out for him to join her. "Let's see what the military wants with us," she declared.

Remington nervously scrubbed his face before he rocked to his feet and placed his hand on the familiar spot on her lower back. He straightened his tie nervously, cleared his throat, and exhaled loudly, "All right." He held his breath as the man dressed in full military uniform entered his office. As soon as they made eye contact, he released his breath and smiled at the familiar face. "Sergeant Sanders!" he called happily. "How nice it is to see you again!"

Sergeant Eli Sanders nodded in Laura and Remington's direction, "Well, it's under much better circumstances, I can assure you." He reached his hand out to shake Remington's offered one.

"Thank you, Bernice. We can take it from here." Laura smiled at her long-time friend.

Bernice raised an eyebrow and sized up Sergeant Sanders. "Are you sure? I could stay… just in case you need someone to… watch your back… or his... "

Laura threw her head back and laughed loudly as she gently prodded her friend out of the room. "We'll be safe, I promise." She closed the door and turned back to the men. "What have we done to deserve this visit?" she inquired.

"Please, call me Eli. Now that everything with your father has been resolved, we don't need to be so formal," Eli requested.

Remington swept his hand toward the sitting area. "Care to have a seat, Eli?" Once he was reclined on the couch, Remington sat in one of the chairs. Laura leaned against the arm of the chair and placed her arm around Remington's shoulder.

Eli studied their faces and began, "Mr. and Mrs. Steele, I've come to ask you for help."

"Help? You need our help?" Laura responded immediately.

"Yes. You see, I'm getting deployed to the Middle East next week, and well... I've come to ask you to do something for me," Eli continued. He yanked nervously on the sleeves of his uniform jacket.

Remington cast his eyes upward in Laura's direction before he nodded. "I'm sure Mrs. Steele would agree to help. After all, you did keep her father safe for how many years? What is it you need us to do?"

Eli clasped his hands together and explained, "I know I mentioned when we first met, Harry was going to be retiring soon, and your father's case was most likely going to be the last mission he was assigned to."

"That's right. How is Harry?" Laura smiled and tilted her head.

"He's good. Fully retired and ready to live the life he deserves. That's why I'm here," Eli offered. Remington crossed his legs and sat back. He lifted his hand and gestured for Eli to continue. "Harry… he's a good dog… follows commands without delay, did everything that was asked of him, no matter the danger. But for some reason, when he was around you two, I don't know how to explain it…" Eli paused. He held his hand up and suggested, "It's like the instant you met, he took to you. Like he was supposed to be with you."

Remington gave him a crooked grin and stated, "Well, we appreciated the attention he gave."

"That's just it. He wasn't commanded to do that. When you sat down, I tried to call him off, but you insisted he was fine. And then when Mrs. Steele and John went outside, Harry was commanded to stay with John," Eli insisted.

"And when I started running…" Laura's voice trailed off as the memory rushed back. It was a moment she would never forget. She remembered running across the small isle, crying, after her father told her he wanted to be a family again. Those were words she'd waited fourteen years to hear, and when the moment became too overwhelming and she took flight, running as fast as she could, Harry right on her heels. And when she stopped, Harry was there.

Eli nodded, "Exactly. Harry wouldn't back off. He's never left a command before."

Remington thumbed at his nose for a moment before adding, "And he was doing his damned best to be sure my wife was all right. Didn't like it too much when I asked him to back off a little." He chuckled softly, "Aw, Harry, the look on his face."

Eli relaxed against the back of the couch and stated, "Now you understand why I came to you."

Laura studied his face, confused, "Eli, I'm not sure I follow you. You mentioned you need our help… but you haven't explained with what."

Eli stared up at her, and with a solemn look, he requested, "I need you to take Harry. Give him the life he deserves. I don't have enough time to interview families before I leave. I know you'll do right by him."

Laura rested her hand on her chest. "I don't know what to say."

"Please say you'll take him. He's supposed to be with you. I know he is. He's still got a long life ahead of him, and I would hate to see him end up in a home where he didn't fit right," Eli pleaded. His eyes clouded with tears when he added, "It's just been him and me… and this mission I'm heading out on… I might not come back. I need to know Harry is going to be taken care of the right way."

Remington placed his hand on Laura's knee and gazed at her. Blue eyes met brown ones, and a silent agreement was made between them. Laura blinked at Eli and comforted him, "Harry will be in good hands. I just hope he doesn't mind living in an apartment for a few months. We don't move into our new house until just before Thanksgiving."

"Harry's lived in everything from a tent to a studio to the barracks. He'll adapt," Eli nodded gratefully. He stood quickly and asked, "Can I bring him by tomorrow? I need a few days to pack up my things, and I think it would be easier all around if Harry didn't have to see that. I don't want him to become stressed, thinking I'm leaving without him. At least if he's with you, he'll be distracted with settling in."

Laura reached out and patted his shoulder, reassuringly, "We can't wait." They escorted Eli to the door and said their goodbyes.

Once Eli was gone, Remington put his arm around Laura's shoulders and announced, "A new house, a baby, and now a dog. I think it's official."

"What's that, Mr. Steele?" Laura questioned with a tilt of her head to look at him.

"I've become positively domesticated," he declared with a grin. "And I can't think of anything else I'd rather be."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"I told the police everything I saw," Emmett Dubois stated after he took a long drag on his cigarette. He exhaled a cloud of smoke in Laura's direction. She took a step back and waved her hand in front of her face as she tried to avoid inhaling.

"Mr. Dubois, we're sorry for your loss, and we want to help get to the bottom of who murdered your father," Laura explained. She finally moved to stand on the other side of Remington, away from Emmett and his offending cigarette smoke. They were standing in Emmett's living room, and to Laura's dismay, the entire room reeked of the same smell.

Emmett took another pull, exhaled again, and shook his head. "The police said they caught the guy." He ground the cigarette into the ashtray beside him. Remington couldn't help notice the ashtray was overflowing.

"We're on the same side. I can assure you," Remington announced. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before he asked, "How can you be so sure the man the police apprehended was the man that actually attacked your father?"

Emmett's head snapped in his direction. "You think he's innocent? The police found his fingerprints on the safe!"

"What about the surveillance cameras?" Laura suggested.

"What about 'em?" Emmett retorted.

Laura waved her hand, gracefully. "Well, the police didn't mention anything about them. I would think whoever killed your father would have had to disable the cameras."

"The cameras were turned off," Emmett stated.

"Turned off? As in disabled or—" Remington began, but Emmett quickly cut him off. "My father must have turned them off after the party. He does that sometimes to change the tapes."

Laura nodded slowly. "Do you think he was surprised while he was changing the tapes, perhaps?"

"Maybe? Why are you asking me? I'm not the police!" Emmett exclaimed. He reached for the cigarette pack on the table, pulled out the slender white stick, and lit it. "That guy the police caught… he murdered my father. What more do you need?"

Laura took a step forward. "Well, a motive for starters. He claimed the money was already missing from the safe, and your father was dead long before he got there."

"No! That's not… no! That… that… monster killed my father!" Emmett insisted.

"Can you think of anyone else who might hold a grudge against your father?" Remington held his hand up to try to calm Mr. Dubois. "I'm not saying Victor Boyd didn't do as you are suggesting, but we want to rule out any other possible enemies your father may have had."

Emmett slumped onto the couch behind him. He scratched his head before he dragged his hands down his stubbled cheeks with a loud sigh. "My father wasn't a saint, but everyone I knew loved him. He donated to multiple charities and chose to live in a condo in the city. He sold our home a few years ago after my mom died. He wanted to live a simpler life since he found out all the money we had couldn't save my mother when she got sick."

Remington raised an eyebrow in Laura's direction. She looked around the sparsely furnished room and asked, "Is that why you're living here and not with him?"

"My father and I didn't always see eye to eye, Mrs. Steele. I chose to move out, and when I did, he told me, in no uncertain terms, I was on my own," Emmett stated as he leveled his gaze on her.

"Your father's gallery was still high-end." Remington pointed out. "If he was living a simpler life as you said, what was he doing with all his money? Other than the charities you mentioned, that is."

Emmett pushed himself to a standing position. He stood eye to eye with Remington and spat, "I don't know."

Laura adjusted her purse on her shoulder and gave Remington's arm a slight tug. "We're very sorry for your loss, Mr. Dubois. We can see ourselves out."

Remington dutifully followed Laura to the door but stopped and turned back to face Emmett once more. "If anything comes to mind, Mr. Dubois, or anyone you think of that may have a grudge against your father, please give us a call." He plucked a business card out of his jacket pocket and held it out.

Emmett lifted his chin and stated, "Leave it on the table. I doubt I'm going to need it." He turned his back and shuffled his way back to the couch.

Laura held the door open and waited for Remington to join her. She watched as he left the card on the small table beside the door, and with one final glance in Emmett's direction, he placed his hand on her lower back and escorted her through the door.

In the car, Laura tapped her finger on her lips and stated, "Something doesn't add up, Mr. Steele."

Remington shifted his eyes in her direction and asked, "What do you mean, Mrs. Steele?"

"Well, so far, both Emmett Dubois and Detective Jarvis have yet to come up with a true motive for this case. All we have is circumstantial evidence and a man everyone seems to like," Laura pointed out.

"Perhaps something isn't as it seems. What do you say we check out the gallery? Maybe we'll see something the police missed," Remington suggested. He glanced at his watch and added, "After we pick up some lunch. We can't have you wasting away to nothing."

Laura's face brightened at the mention of food. With a dimpled, crooked grin, she agreed, "Lunch sounds perfect now that my stomach has stopped doing flip flops from the smell of that cigarette."

Remington reached over and took her hand. "Well, my love, you managed to keep your discomfort well-hidden this time."

"It's going to end up being an art form, I'm guessing," Laura giggled. "I can't have our clients think I'm incapable of performing my job simply because I'm pregnant."

"So, Mrs. Steele, what might our babe be craving at this moment?" Remington gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

With her free hand, Laura brushed her hair off her face. "I'm not really sure, to be honest."

Remington grinned. "Might I offer a few suggestions?"

"See if anything tickles my fancy?" Laura quipped.

"Well, I've been doing a bit of reading lately, so what would you say to a nice strawberry spinach salad topped with steak tips. Cooked well, of course," Remington offered.

Laura licked her lips. "Mmmm, that does sound appetizing."

Remington chuckled at her reaction. "And I know just the place to get such a dish. You know, strawberries are bursting with vitamin C, spinach is loaded with folate, which is one of the ingredients in those vitamins the doctor prescribed, and the steak will help keep your iron levels up," he informed his wife.

Laura twisted in her seat to study his face. "When did you become such a dietary expert? And what do you mean you've been doing some reading lately? What are you up to?"

Remington laughed again. He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers. "I may have picked up a book or two on pregnancy to quell certain fears," he admitted.

"You did, did you?" Laura released his hand and caressed his cheek lightly. She righted herself in her seat and covered her belly with her right hand. "I thought about doing the same thing, but I was afraid I'd read too much and get scared."

"Laura, why didn't you tell me? If there's something you're afraid of, we should work through it together. I mean, we are a team, are we not?" Remington gently admonished her.

Laura looked down at her hand. "I know we are, and I know I don't have to worry about you leaving anymore. Especially not now. But I know all sorts of things can happen when you're pregnant, and I think in this case… in my case… ignorance might be bliss," she conceded softly.

"Look at the pair of us, eh. Both afraid of the same thing, yet we took two different approaches to deal with our fears," Remington pointed out.

Laura lifted her eyes shyly, and with a slow smile, she said, "I guess we both have a lot to talk about then. We should be on the same page moving forward. So, you can tell me what you've read, and I'll tell you what I'm afraid of. Over lunch."

"Over lunch, it is, my love," Remington assured her with one more kiss on her fingers.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Remington stood, studying one of the paintings on display as Laura wandered around the open gallery. She would stop and gaze upon a different sculpture before moving to the next one. After several minutes, Remington couldn't help smile at his wife's restless movements.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting." A woman's voice drifted in their direction. The Steeles turned to see a tall, striking woman with long, jet black hair gliding across the floor toward them.

Remington glanced at Laura before speaking. "It's quite all right. We were just admiring the artwork."

"Yes, we have some wonderful pieces on display. Anything interest you in particular?" the woman asked.

Simultaneously, Remington replied, "No," as Laura stated, "Yes." He turned to her and questioned, "Yes?"

"Yes, actually, there is a piece that captured my attention," Laura insisted with a grin.

"There is?" Remington twisted his head to determine what Laura was referring to.

Laura smiled and slowly walked back to one small sculpture on a stand. "This one. Can you tell me more about it?" she requested.

The woman swept her hand toward the artwork, "This is called The Child. The artist wanted to display the innocence of childhood memories."

Remington tipped his head to the side slightly to study the ceramic figurine, painted in muted colors. He proceeded to move beside Laura, facing the display. He immediately took notice of the tub of popcorn in the crook of the child's arm. There was also a small stick of what appeared to be cotton candy clutched in its grasp and clown paint adorning the statue's face. "Ah, yes. There's nothing more innocent than a child at the circus," he remarked with a crooked grin. He glanced up at Laura. She couldn't hide the slight blush of color on her cheeks. "I can see why my wife is rather enamored with this piece."

"The artist has done several other pieces-" the woman began.

Laura immediately gasped, "Of the circus? Do you have them here?" Remington couldn't hold back the snicker that escaped him.

"Sadly, no. This was the last piece he did before he passed away. His family has graciously allowed us to sell it on commission on behalf of his estate. All the proceeds from this purchase will go to a charity of their choice," the woman sighed. "But enough about that. How can I help you?"

Remington slid his hand down his tie, smoothing it as he flashed her a toothy smile. "The name is Steele… Remington Steele. And this is my-"

"Remington Steele? As in the detective?" the dark-haired beauty inhaled sharply.

"I see my reputation precedes me." Remington glowed.

The woman reached out and grasped his arm gently. "Does it ever. I'm Valerie Liang, the gallery director. I am… was Stefan's right arm for lack of a better term."

"Valerie, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Laura Steele." Laura stepped forward, her hand held out to the woman. Valerie flicked her eyes over Laura but immediately turned her attention back to Remington, effectively dismissing her.

"Miss Liang… it is Miss, isn't it?" Remington patted the hand on his arm. He couldn't help notice the perfectly manicured nails, stroking his jacket sleeve.

Valerie took a step closer to Remington and batted her extended, fake eyelashes. "Definitely _Miss_. What can I do for you? Are you here about Stefan's murder? Or the robbery? It was just awful how he was murdered like that."

Laura rolled her eyes and took a few steps around Remington to stand closer to Valerie. "How well did you know Mr. Dubois?" she questioned, her tone becoming more serious.

Valerie continued to stare at Remington as she explained, "Steffie and I go back fifteen years to when he first opened this place. Before his wife got sick, the poor thing. He was devastated when she died." She paused and blinked rapidly as if she was fighting off tears.

"Go on," Remington insisted softly with a gentle purse of his lips. Laura could only roll her eyes once more.

"Well, it took him such a long time to mourn her death, and to be honest, I think he was still mourning her… in his own way, that is. That's why he threw himself into his work. He spent day and night here, building the gallery into what it is today. One of the most highly respected operations in the city." Valerie tapped the tip of her nose and sniffled lightly.

Remington patted her hand once more and inquired, "Do you know of anyone that might hold a grudge against Mr. Dubois for any reason? Someone who would have wanted to hurt him?"

"A grudge? Against Steffie? Mr. Steele, you definitely didn't know him like I did. He was the sweetest, most passionate man you would ever meet!" Valerie exclaimed with wide eyes.

"So, if I understand you correctly, Mr. Dubois didn't have any enemies?" Laura interjected.

Valerie flipped her hand in Laura's direction and stated, "He had his fair share of people who didn't like him simply because he was successful. But the people who knew him… I mean, really truly knew him… everyone loved him for the kind, generous, giving soul that he was."

Remington bobbed his head slightly, acknowledging Valerie's statement. "Miss Liang, do you think it would be possible for us to see the office where the… the… incident occurred?" he requested before he touched his fingers to his lips playfully.

Immediately, Valerie tucked her hand into his elbow. "The office is this way. I haven't been in there since the police left. It gives me the creeps knowing that he was in there… alone... for who knows how many hours before Emmie found him."

"Emmie?" Laura choked.

"Oh, that's Steffie's son, Emmett. He was the one who found his father after the break-in," Valerie explained. She led them into a hidden hallway and stopped at a closed door. "This was Steffie's office."

Remington glanced down the hall and noticed several other unmarked doors. "Which office is yours?"

Valerie pointed to the door across the hall. "That one's mine. Steffie made sure when he hired me that I had my own private space. To get my work done, without distraction."

Remington gave Laura a knowing smile as he nodded. "Yes, I'm sure he did. Um, would it be all right if we were to… poke around a little bit in Steffie's office?"

Valerie pushed the door lever downward before the frosted glass door swung inward, revealing the office. A massive cherrywood executive desk was the room's focal point, with a large, leather office chair skewed to the side. Across the top of the desk were several file folders, order sheets, and what appeared to be a stack of handwritten receipts, along with a telephone, answering machine, a small desk organizer filled with paper clips, pens, and rubber bands. On the corner, Laura couldn't help but notice an ashtray filled with crushed cigarette butts. She looked around and noticed a dark stain on the rug, near the edge of the desk. "Is that where?" Laura left the question hanging.

"Steffie was found? Yes. The police didn't even have the decency to send a cleaning crew or something. We're going to have to do that ourselves, but they said we have to wait until they … well until they catch his murderer." Valerie visibly shuddered.

"But I thought they did arrest someone," Laura stated. She turned to Remington and asked, "Wasn't his name Victor something or other?"

Remington snapped his fingers before pressing them to his lips. "Yes, the police mentioned his name. Come to think of it, I don't remember what it is now." He smiled at Valerie once more and added, "You wouldn't, by chance, know where the safe is hidden, would you?"

Valerie sighed at him happily. "Of course I do. I'm in and out of it several times a week."

Laura leaned her hip against the desk and inquired, "So you know the combination?"

Valerie rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly. "Steffie kept all the money in the safe prior to deposit as well as all our contracts. He always said you could never be too careful when it came to that sort of thing," she explained.

"Wait. I thought the police said the safe was empty. What happened to the contracts?" Remington questioned.

"I moved them that morning into my office. Steffie was afraid there wouldn't be enough room for all the cash from the fundraiser, so he told me to put all the contracts in my office for safekeeping for the night," Valerie clarified.

Laura ran her fingers along the edge of the beveled wood and asked, "Who else knew the combination to the safe?"

"That's easy. Only Steffie and I did. You see, he would change the combination twice a month. It's one of those new combination-digital safes. It has a four-digit code you have to enter after you use the dial code. Extra security," Valerie stated as she moved to a small cabinet across from the desk. She opened the wood door, revealing the safe inside.

Remington crouched down and asked, "May I?" Valerie moved out of his way, allowing him space to examine the safe. "Well, I don't see any way someone could break into this safe easily. I mean, the dial alone would be difficult but to add the complexity of a four-digit electronic code to the process would make this near impossible." He straightened himself up and wondered, "Miss Liang, would it be possible to override the code, perhaps?"

Valerie blinked several times before she stated, "Well, there is the master code. I suppose if someone knew that, it would override the current code."

"And who would have known the master code?" Remington hinted.

"Well, only Steffie and I. Actually, Steffie chose the code because of me. He told me he picked it because he knew I would never forget it." Valerie smiled widely as she closed the door to hide the safe again.

Laura rubbed at the back of her neck with one hand and asked, "Why was that?"

Valerie giggled like a schoolgirl before she admitted, "It was my birthday. Steffie chose my birthday as the master code. But only he and I knew that."

An idea suddenly struck Remington as she giggled again. "Miss Liang, what's going to happen to the gallery now that Mr. Dubois is… well… deceased?"

Valerie straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and informed them, "I'm going to finish what Steffie started."

"You mean, you're going to help his son continue on?" Laura questioned.

"No. Steffie left the gallery to me. I'm going to keep his dream alive of helping fund the charities he held near and dear to his heart… after my commission cut, that is," Valerie stated with a nod.

Remington slipped his hand around Valerie's waist as he said, "Really? Please, tell me more about these charities." He guided Valerie out of the office with a wink in Laura's direction. Laura rested her hand casually against her midsection as she watched her husband charm Valerie Liang into giving them more information about Valerie's true relationship with Stefan Dubois.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Laura stepped off the elevator, still recapping what they currently knew about their case. "We know Stefan Dubois and his son were estranged. We can gather Mr. Dubois and Valerie had more than a working relationship based on what she told you at the gallery. We also know Vic must have been telling the truth about the safe being empty simply because there was no way he could've known the digital code."

"Laura, does this mean you believe Vic is innocent?" Remington asked as he held the door open for her.

"No, Mr. Steele, it simply means I believe he didn't steal the money in the safe. The murder of Stefan Dubois is another thing altogether," Laura clarified. She paused to smile at Bernice. "Any messages for us this afternoon?"

Bernice glanced up at her and replied, "No, but that hot military man is in Mr. Steele's office again." She held out a small bundle of envelopes.

"Anything else?" Laura countered as she flipped through the mail.

"Hey, Laura… you know how I am about a man in uniform. How about you get me his number?" Bernice requested with a sly grin.

Laura laughed lightly. "How about no? He's leaving to go to the Middle East next week. You and long-distance relationships never work."

"Who said anything about a relationship? Maybe I could give him a little send-off party for two," Bernice drawled as she raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Remington covered his mouth and chuckled. "Not to disappoint you, Ms. Foxx, but I'm sure Eli has a few other things on his mind."

Bernice scowled at Remington before she tossed her curly hair and suggested, "Maybe he needs a dog sitter?"

"Wrong again," Laura tossed back. Without an explanation, she turned and headed directly for Remington's office, her husband only a step behind her. "Eli!" she announced with a smile as the pair entered the office to find Eli sitting on the couch and Harry standing at attention beside him.

"Mrs. Steele. Mr. Steele. I hope you don't mind. I asked the receptionist to let me wait in here. I thought maybe Harry would relax more, but he's pretty tense. I think he knows something is going on," Eli stated.

Laura sat on the chair across from Eli, and Harry immediately lifted his head. Eli nodded before Harry crossed the small space and leaned close to Laura's legs. "Hello again, Harry," she whispered softly as she scratched behind one ear. Almost instantly, Harry's tongue lolled to one side, and he pressed his snout against her arm.

"I knew this was the right thing to do," Eli sighed. He reached beside him and lifted a duffle bag. "This is all of Harry's things… a few balls he likes to play with, an extra collar and leash, a bag of food, and his favorite stuffed animal." He handed the bag to Remington, who placed it on the floor behind Laura's chair.

Remington couldn't help but laugh. "Harry has a favorite stuffed animal?" he joked.

Eli nodded with a relaxed smile. "I had it made for him. It's a teddy bear made from a couple of my old t-shirts. I figured it would comfort him when I was deployed, but he takes it with him everywhere."

Laura, still stroking Harry's face, wondered, "What about a dog bed? That bag looks too small to hold a bed for a dog his size."

Eli shook his head. "Harry's never slept in a dog bed. I mean, when we've been deployed, he would usually sleep beside me. We haven't had a lot of down-time. You know what I mean?"

Remington crouched down to Harry's level and ran his hand down the muscular back of the dog. "Hey, Harry. We'll find a good spot for you to lay your head. Don't you worry about a thing," he assured the dog.

Eli reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of lined paper. "I wrote out all his commands for you. I don't know how well you know German, so I did my best to sound it out for you too. You probably won't need most of them, but there are a few useful ones." He handed the paper to Laura, who quickly scanned the meticulous writing.

"Doesn't he follow any commands in English?" she groaned.

"He knows the word f-o-o-d. And he's pretty good with sit when f-o-o-d is involved," Eli teased.

Remington looked down at the leather leash dangling from Harry's collar when a thought struck him. "How does he indicate when he needs to go?" He waved his hand at the door as if his question wasn't clear enough.

Eli nodded. "Well, he'll start by sitting near the door. If that doesn't work, he usually nudges you a few times. When that fails, he'll tell you," Eli ticked off.

"By tell us, you mean he'll bark?" Laura clarified.

"Bark may not be the right word. He might whine a little, or he makes this chattering sound. It's hard to describe until you hear it. But he won't do that unless he really has to go. Barking for Harry is more of an indicator. Meaning he thinks something isn't right or he's been commanded to guard. Like when he first met you on the Isle. He was commanded to appear menacing, when, in reality, that's not who Harry is," Eli explained. He reached over and playfully shook Harry's ears with one hand before running his fingers lovingly down Harry's snout. Harry pushed his wet nose into Eli's palm, looking for more attention.

Laura stroked the soft fur around his neck and asked, "How often does he eat? I'm sure a dog of his size must consume quite a bit."

Eli scratched Harry's chin as he said, "Nah. Only twice a day and limit the snacks." At the word snacks, Harry's ears perked up, and he began to pant lightly. "I only brought you carrots," Eli joked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sandwich baggie filled with chunks of carrots. "He loves these. And watermelon. Any cooked vegetable, really. I also gave you a copy of his medical records and a letter from the military vet. He's got a clean bill of health, minus his reaction to loud sounds."

"What happens when he hears a loud sound?" Remington became increasingly nervous at the prospect the dog could become violent or something.

Eli fed Harry a few carrot chunks. "A single loud boom like thunder will leave him shaking for a while. Multiple pop sounds, like fireworks, he'll find someplace to hide, and it will be hard to get him out until he feels it's safe."

Remington exhaled audibly. "No loud booms, no fireworks. I think we can handle that. Don't you, Laura?" He reached down and rested his hand on Laura's shoulder as she continued to pat Harry.

"Is there any way we could get in touch with you, just in case we have questions about Harry?" Laura inquired.

"I'll send word when I'm settled. Phones aren't really reliable where I'm going to be stationed, although they told us we would get some of those new cell phones they've been talking about. Nokia, I think, makes them." Eli stood and handed Remington the leash. He nodded once and stated, "I know this is the right move for Harry. I mean, look at him. He's finally relaxed. He looks happy. Just do me a favor and take good care of him for me, will you?"

Laura stood slowly, Harry's body impeding her movement slightly. "We'll do our best. You just stay safe so you can come back and visit him once in a while," she stated with a warm smile. She reached out and touched Eli's arm. "We'll walk you out if you're ready."

Eli knelt and pressed his head to Harry's. "Listen, Harry. I've got to go, but you're going to stay here with them now," he whispered against his fur. "You be good and take care of them, and they'll take good care of you. Don't be a pest and try not to be in the way all the time. You know you get kind of nosy when you shouldn't," Eli teased as tears began to slide down his face. Harry lapped at the wet streaks as Eli continued. "I'm not going to be back for a long time, but I want to hear all about the adventures you're going to be on. I love you, Buddy." He gave the dog one last squeeze before he brushed away his tears and rose to his feet. "I'm ready now. I still don't know how to thank you for doing this. Words just don't feel like enough."

Laura squeezed his arm and stated, "You can thank us by coming back in one piece. What you're going to do far exceeds what we're doing."

"I second that, Mate," Remington agreed. He held out his hand, and Eli grasped it firmly. With a solid shake, Remington released him and clapped him on his shoulder. "And when you do come back, I'll take you out for a pint. Is that a deal?"

Eli gave him a warm smile and nodded. "That's a deal."

They made their way into the lobby, where Eli gave one last wave to Harry before he disappeared down the hall. Bernice stared at Remington and Laura, her mouth gaped open. Remington cleared his throat and called out, "Mildred, would you come join us, please?"

"Sure thing." When she stood in the doorway, she glanced down and pointed at Harry. "What's up with the pooch, Boss?"

Remington glanced down at Harry, dutifully sitting, and announced, "Mildred, Ms. Foxx, Laura and I would like to introduce the newest member of the Steele family. This is Harry. Harry, these are the girls. Be nice to them, and I'm sure they'll have some goodies stashed away for you in no time."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**This chapter rated NC-17. If you are under 18 or are not comfortable, please move to the next chapter.**

"Well, Rem, I think our first night home with Harry was a success," Laura declared with a smile as she turned the covers down on the bed. She slipped her legs under the cool sheets and yawned.

Remington opened the bedroom door to check on Harry, who was currently sound asleep on the couch. "You mean after the five-mile walk he insisted on before he would do his business?" he complained as he closed the door. He draped his silk robe over the chair in the corner and made his way over to the bed.

Laura chuckled. "It wasn't that bad. Maybe we should take him on a run instead. He might like that more than the slow pace you were trying to hold him at," she mocked.

Remington stared at his wife. "A run? Really, Laura? Do you think that's safe to do in your current condition?" he demanded.

"I'm pregnant, Rem, not dying. The doctor said exercise was good for me, and besides that, I like running. You should try it sometime," Laura deadpanned.

Remington settled himself against the headboard of the bed and grimaced. "I thought after that triathlon, you would have worked all that out of your system. Apparently not."

Laura rolled onto her side and reached over to walk her fingers through the mat of thick hair on his chest. "I enjoyed the few times I got to run around the lough in Ireland. It's very freeing, you know. The wind in your hair as you keep a steady cadence. I find it… therapeutic."

Remington pursed his lips playfully. "Therapeutic, eh?" he toyed. "Tell me more."

"Well, there's nothing like it. When you first start, you start off slow and build your pace until your heart races, your muscles exhaust themselves from the effort, if you do it long enough, your lungs beg for air," Laura stated as she continued to tickle his chest with her fingers.

"Uh-huh," Remington uttered before he entwined his fingers with hers.

Laura pressed closer to him and whispered, "It's much more fun when you're not alone."

Swiftly, Remington slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her close for a passion-filled kiss, leaving them both breathless. "I second that," he teased before capturing her lips once more. Laura released his fingers and slid her hand up his chest to his shoulder. She dug her short nails into his skin and moaned lightly.

Remington tugged at the hem of her nightgown. They separated long enough for him to strip the sleepwear over her head and threw it onto the end of the bed. Laura pushed the waistband of his sleep pants down and off his body, exposing his hardened shaft. Laura leaned down with a wicked grin and covered the cap with her mouth while she worked his shaft with her hand. Remington groaned loudly, dropped his head back, and buried his hand in her hair. He gave in to the powerful sensations she was drawing from his body. "Laura?" he whispered. "Love… You keep that up…" his voice trailed off into a loud moan as his leg twitched uncontrollably.

Laura released him with a soft pop and crawled up his body, sprinkling kisses along the way. She pecked at his lips, playfully before she assured him, "I want to make sure we keep something else up."

Remington growled before capturing her head in his hands. He swept her mouth with his tongue. He found hers, and they dueled for dominance as he rolled Laura onto her back. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips and waited for him to bury himself in her depths.

"Not so fast, my love," Remington laughed. He wiggled her legs free and dragged his lightly stubbled chin down her cheek. He pressed his lips to her collarbone before tracing the delicate skin to the hollow of her neck, where he dipped his tongue gleefully in the depression. Laura gasped loudly. Remington smiled against her skin and rubbed his chin across her freckled sternum.

"Rem, stop," she admonished him, but the giggle that followed told him all he needed to know. He continued to alternate kisses and swipes of his cheek across her chest before he zeroed in on the sensitive peak of her breast. "Oh," she cried out loudly. From the living room, they heard Harry whimpering softly. "Shhhh, you're going to get Harry worked up," Laura whispered. She cradled his rough face in her hands and guided him upward until he was settled over her once more.

"Harry worked up?" he scoffed. "I'll show you who's going to get worked up." Remington skillfully aligned himself at her entrance, and with a practiced rock of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt. Laura gasped with pleasure. She tilted her pelvis and cried out as he struck the delicate spot deep within her. With a devilish grin, Remington rolled and pumped his hips. Laura reached around and dug her nails into his back as she cried out. As she neared her peak, they could hear Harry scratching at the door, whining again.

"Rem," Laura panted against his damp skin. His response was another gentle thrust, striking the bundle of nerves again. Laura immediately tensed before she gripped his back and screamed out. Remington continued his rolling onslaught until he felt the familiar tightening in his groin.

Outside of the room, Harry began to bark louder as he frantically jumped up against the door. Just as Remington lifted his head and thrust his hips one last time, Harry burst through the door and launched himself onto the bed. "Bloody hell!" Remington shouted as the dog tried to nudge his head between Remington and Laura. Laura tried to push him away, but Harry continued to alternate between sniffing Remington and licking Laura's sweat-dampened neck. Finally, Remington rolled to the side, giving Harry room to complete his inspection.

"I'm fine, Harry, I'm fine," Laura assured him between laughs. She glanced over at Remington, glaring in their direction.

"That's one way to ruin the mood," he complained.

Laura managed to get Harry to settle down by rubbing his ears as she laughed, "I wouldn't say that, Mr. Steele." She rolled onto her side, her bare chest still rising and falling rapidly, facing Remington.

Remington rolled his eyes at Harry, who was creeping toward him, his snout resting between his front paws. The dog whined softly and looked up at him with a frightened look. Remington closed his eyes and sighed loudly. "It's okay, Harry. But next time, Mate, could you give me a few more minutes?" he groaned. As if he understood, Harry pushed himself to a sitting position and barked sharply. His tail thumped happily behind him on the bed between Laura and Remington.

Laura laughed and reached out to stroke his back. "I'm going to get cleaned up, but I was thinking… maybe we should let Harry sleep in here with us. I mean, we don't want him breaking through the door again, now do we?" she suggested.

Remington draped his arm across his forehead and shook his head. "I suppose that might be wise. Abigail may not take too kindly to scratches on the door right before she moves in. I'll arrange a blanket on the floor for him."

Laura crawled off the edge of the bed but turned back to Remington. She leaned across Harry to brush her lips against her husband's with a soft, "I love you, Rem."

Remington captured her head with one hand and replied, "I love you, too, Laura. I'll fix the bed while you freshen up." Laura grabbed her nightgown on the end of the bed before she disappeared into the bathroom with a tinkling laugh. Remington rolled off the opposite side of the bed and gestured for Harry to climb down. Harry just thumped his tail several more times. "Down," Remington commanded. Harry lowered himself to a laying position. "Off," Remington tried again, but Harry still didn't budge. Frustrated, Remington attempted to pull at the skewed blanket on the bed only to be hindered by Harry's weight. He moved to the other side of the bed and tried again, Harry's head following his every move.

Several exasperating minutes later, Laura stood in the doorway and watched her still-naked husband attempting to push Harry off the bed. Harry only shuffled out of Remington's reach each time. Laura finally decided to put Remington out of his misery and called out, "Hier!" Harry scrambled off the bed to stand beside her.

"Thank you!" Remington exhaled as he straightened the bed and shimmied back into his sleep pants.

"If you memorized the commands Eli gave us as I did, you would've been able to move him a lot sooner," she reminded him. Remington simply glared at her as he passed by and slammed the bathroom door. Laura laughed again and climbed into bed. Harry followed her and settled himself down, his head resting on Laura's stomach. Remington returned to the bedroom and groaned. Without a word, he climbed into bed and laid back against the pillows. He leaned over, snapped off the light, and reached over to Laura to pull her closer. Harry wiggled himself firmly between the two of them, forcing Remington to remain on his side, away from Laura. Sensing Remington's mood, Laura reached for him and whispered, "Goodnight, Rem."

With a sigh, he captured her hand, pressed her palm to his lips. "Goodnight, Love."

Between them, Harry thumped his tail loudly. The pair laughed and declared simultaneously, "Goodnight, Harry."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

The next morning, Laura returned from a long run with Harry to find Remington fixing breakfast in the kitchen. She brushed her lips across his and stated, "I'm going to jump in the shower. Harry should be tired after our run. I'll be ready to go in a half-hour."

Remington swiftly slipped his hand around her waist to pull her closer. "Not so fast, Mrs. Steele. I was quite upset this morning to wake and find our bed empty, yet again. I think you should make it up to me a little," he admonished between kisses sprinkled along her cheek and neck. He felt her body relax slightly when he suckled the sensitive skin just under her ear.

Helpless to his advances, Laura draped her arms around his neck and sighed happily. "Well, Mr. Steele. You could join me in the shower if you'd like," she offered.

Remington reached over, twisted the stove knob to the off position, and growled, "Breakfast can wait." He lifted Laura into his arms and took two steps toward the open doorway. He tripped over Harry and nearly dropped Laura as he tried to maintain his balance. "Dammit, Harry," he snapped angrily. Harry jumped up and let out a sharp bark as he pawed at Laura's legs.

"I'm fine, Harry," she groaned. Remington lowered her back to her feet so she could reach down and comfort the agitated dog. "He's protective, I guess." Harry lifted his paw and swatted at Laura's wrist. "And insistent. Okay, Harry, I guess we feed you first, then, huh?" Harry's response was another sharp bark.

Remington clenched his jaw as he bit back his angry retort. "You get in the shower. I'll feed Harry. It appears our new canine family member and I need to have a little chat about who the boss is around here."

Laura rose, gave Harry's head a gentle stroke, and promised, "I'll save you some hot water."

Remington reached out to cradle her jawline, which she rewarded with a kiss to the palm of his hand. His anger quickly subsided when she disappeared around the corner. He listened to her lilting voice as she began to sing a song he was unfamiliar with. "Must be something new," he muttered at the dog.

Remington heard the sound of the shower and sighed. "Okay, Harry. Now, we need to have some boundaries here," he stated. He reached down to lift Harry's empty dog bowl as he spoke. "Laura and I are going to have these moments… and during these moments, you might hear Laura crying out… but I can assure you, Mate, I'm not hurting her… not in the way you might be thinking anyway. There's no pain involved… that's not really my thing, if you understand my drift," Remington rambled as he scooped out the dog food from the bag Eli gave them. He noticed the bag was only half-filled and made a mental note to stop at the pet store to get more. He glanced down at Harry, and a smile quirked at the edges of his mouth. Harry's head was twisting side to side as if he was contemplating Remington's words. He lowered the bowl, and Harry immediately dove in, scooping up the kibble with his tongue. Remington rubbed the dog's head and stated softly, "This is going to be one of those moments, so try not to break the door down this time." He left the kitchen and followed the sound of Laura's singing into the bathroom.

Two hours later, Remington and Laura arrived at the office with Harry walking beside Laura. "Good morning," Bernice greeted them. "I see you brought him with you today." She reached out to allow Harry to sniff her hands before she scratched behind his ear.

"I couldn't leave him," Laura admitted. "When we were getting ready to go, he just stared at me the whole time. And when I put my coat on, he let out the softest whine I've ever heard. I don't think he likes to be alone."

"None of us do, but some of us have no choice," Bernice grumbled. She lifted her eyes away from Harry and added, "Vic called this morning. He wanted to know if _Max_ has made any headway. I told him you'd call as soon as you arrived."

Remington nodded affirmatively. "I'll call him. Anything else, Ms. Wolfe?"

Bernice handed Laura another phone message. "The contractor at the house called. He said he needs something for your approval."

Laura glanced down at the pink slip of paper and declared, "Divide and conquer, Mr. Steele. You call Vic. I'll call the contractor?"

Remington shook his head adamantly. "After their last debacle, I want to be present for that call, Mrs. Steele. And I think we need to go over a few more facts on our case. I have a nagging suspicion, we're missing some significant clues."

"All right then," she agreed. "Your office or mine?"

"Mine," Remington declared. He took several steps toward his door when Mildred's stern voice called out, "Hold it right there!" Flustered, he placed his hand on his chest and swung his head around, searching for someone else she might be yelling at. Seeing no one, he stepped closer to Mildred's open door and squeaked, "Me?"

Mildred pointed at Remington with her pencil. "You can't come strolling in here without bringing Harry over to see me," she demanded before a genial smile creased her face. "I brought him a treat today."

At the word treat, Harry tugged on the leash and began to drag Laura in Mildred's direction. Laughing, she released the leather strap, and Harry happily bounded past Remington to stop beside Mildred's desk. In her hands, she held a large dog bone, wrapped with a bright red bow. Harry thumped his tail happily, and his entire body twitched in anticipation. He greedily accepted the offered gift and pranced his way back to the foyer. "I'd say he likes it," Laura remarked.

"Now that we have Harry settled, how about we head into my office and make those phone calls?" Remington swept his hand across the front of him to point to his door.

"Of course, Mr. Steele," Laura snickered. She passed by the dog, still shaking with excitement, the bone clenched tightly in his jaw. "Come along, Harry." Harry dutifully followed her, the leather leash dangling behind him.

Remington gave Bernice a half-hearted wave before he closed the door behind him. He immediately noticed Laura lounging on the edge of his desk, and Harry curled up at her feet, gnawing on his newfound treasure. He gestured at the dog. "You might want to take that bow off before he chokes on it, Laura." He continued around the desk to settle himself in his chair.

Laura pressed her brows together in a frown before she reached down and plucked the end of the ribbon loose. Harry tried to tug the bone away from her as she reached down to untangle the remaining knot. "I'm not going to take it," she assured him with a pat on his head. With a slight grumble in the back of his throat, he relinquished his hold and allowed her to finish her task. "Here you go. Now," Laura straightened herself fully and turned her attention back to her husband, "Where were we?"

Remington opened his mouth to reply, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door. "I thought you might want coffee this morning," Bernice offered as she entered, carrying a small tray with two filled coffee mugs. "I would have made tea, but you seem like you need something a little stronger this morning, Mr. Steele." She leveled her eyes on Remington and raised one sculpted eyebrow, challenging him.

"Thank you, Ms. Foxx. Coffee is precisely what we need right now," Remington declared.

Bernice lowered the tray onto his desk and whispered to Laura, "It's only half-caffeinated. I figured your little bundle of joy probably didn't need more than that with Mr. Highstrung himself for a father." She jerked her head slightly in Remington's direction and grinned.

"Thank you, Bernice." Laura tried to hide her own smirk as she lifted the mug to her lips. She turned to Remington and hummed, "This is delicious. Much better than mine, wouldn't you say, dear?"

Remington studied her face carefully. He took a sip of his cup and nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. Did you change brands?" he questioned.

Bernice gave Laura a subtle wink and stated cryptically, "Something like that. I'll be at my desk if you need me." She left the room and closed the door behind her.

Laura sighed loudly and verified, "Hiring Bernice back was the right decision, don't you think?"

Remington placed the steaming mug back on the desk, brushed his hand through his hair, and replied, "I suppose you're right. After all, she has been extremely efficient, and she's managed to take all the changes in stride. Now, let's get down to business and start with our call to Vic." He lifted the phone receiver and waited for Laura to stop him. When she just blinked at him, he quickly punched Vic's number in and waited as the phone rang.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Remington checked his watch again before he knocked on the door of their house. "I'm telling you, Laura, this better be quick because we told Jarvis to meet us at the crime scene in less than two hours," he reminded his wife. Laura stood beside him, holding Harry's leash tightly. Remington glared at the dog and added, "I don't know why you didn't leave him in the car… or at the office."

"He needed to go for a walk, and it's too warm to leave him in the car. Besides, it's going to be his home, too," she fumed angrily. She was going to continue her explanation when the door opened. "Hello, Randy," Laura plastered on a plastic smile as the contractor greeted them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Steele. Right on time. The guys are just finishing up." Randy, the contractor, extended his arm out to allow them to enter. "Oh, look, you brought your dog. I didn't know you folks had a dog." Randy reached down to pat Harry, who instantly bared his teeth and growled a warning. Randy backed up immediately. "Nice pup."

Laura, Remington, and Harry stepped into the foyer, and Laura looked around. "I don't see any changes in here," she commented. She couldn't help notice Remington was uncharacteristically quiet. She peered in his direction to see him nervously tugging on his earlobe while he bit his bottom lip.

"Not in here, Mrs. Steele. In the kitchen. Like I said on the phone, I'm sorry for the mix-up, but when I went back to my supplier, they were all out of the Alaskan White, so I went with your second choice. I hope you folks like it," Randy explained as he led them toward the open kitchen. He took two steps to the side to allow them a full view of the room.

Laura and Remington stared at the new countertop and the backsplash. One of the workers was still working on wiping away the grout at the far end of the wall. Remington propped his arm up with one hand and covered his mouth with the other. Laura tilted her head to the side, took several steps to her right, and tilted her head again the opposite way. "Well?" she anxiously awaited Remington's response.

Remington exhaled loudly and observed, "The Blue Symphony Granite, eh? What's that on the backsplash?"

Randy rushed forward, "That's the Blue Macaubas Mosaic Marble. But if you don't like it, we can pull it out. The adhesive isn't fully dry yet."

Remington folded his arms and shifted his weight to the side. He carefully studied the counter and wall before taking a step closer to run his hand along the smooth horizontal surface. He splayed his fingers and stretched them forward to feel the texture of the marble on the wall before he stepped back to stand beside Laura and Harry. "What do you think?" he inquired.

Harry let out a sharp, high-pitched bark. Laura snuck a look at the dog before she replied, "I agree with Harry. I like it."

Remington turned to face Randy, and with a perfunctory nod, he stated, "My wife likes it. Harry likes it." He paused long enough to see Randy hold his breath before he declared, "Well done, my good man."

Randy exhaled loudly before he called out, "Finish it up, guys. And make sure there are no more mistakes."

The two workers in the room readily replied, "You got it, boss," and turned back to finish their work.

Relieved, Randy smiled at Remington. "That's the last of the big stuff then. The guys are still working on the trim work upstairs and in the office, as well as getting the patio finished. Are you sure you don't want that soaking pool? We just put one in a few weeks ago at another house, and boy, let me tell you-" Randy yammered until Laura cut him off with, "No pool." His head snapped in her direction, and he nodded rapidly, "Okay, okay. The lady of the house said no pool, no pool it is."

Laura gripped Harry's leash tighter and proposed, "Let's take a look at the backyard. I'm sure Harry would like to see where he's going to be spending some of his time."

Remington furrowed his brow and leaned closer to her as he stated, "He's only a dog, Laura. I don't think he cares what it looks like."

"Well, I do, Mr. Steele," she quickly snapped.

Remington held up his hand and announced, "As my wife requested. The backyard, please, Randy."

Randy nodded rapidly. "Sure thing. Follow me." He crossed the kitchen, maintaining his course on the cardboard carefully taped down over the new hardwood floors. He reached the French doors leading to the back of the house. "The mason will be back tomorrow to finish laying the patio blocks, but you get the idea. We did paint the shed, like you asked, to match the house."

Laura surveyed the yard and pointed to the rear of the property. "What's going on back there?"

Remington took her hand and carefully guided her and Harry to the area she was pointing to. Upon closer inspection, she noticed a medium-sized doghouse beside an area that was partitioned off. "I took the liberty of adding a few other touches to the yard," he declared. Laura studied his face, confused. "Well, this area here will have a child's playset soon enough, and I thought it was only fitting to have the doghouse close by," Remington admitted.

Laura turned in his arms and whispered tearfully, "You're having a playset added?"

Remington shrugged his shoulders and drew her in for a hug. "I know it's going to be a while before the babe will be able to use it, but I thought since we had the workers here already, why not take advantage of them. And Randy felt so bad they messed up the kitchen, he didn't even charge us extra for the installation out here."

Laura nestled against his chest, blinking away the tears brought on by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you for being you," she whispered.

Remington soothed his wife's back with his hands as he grinned. He peered down at Harry, who was sitting at attention. "Good boy, Harry. Go check out your new digs," he crooned. Harry sniffed around the entrance, and instead of climbing inside as Remington suspected he would, Harry promptly lifted his leg on the corner and marked it. Remington snorted, "Well, Harry, I guess I'll take that as a peace offering but be warned… any more of you breaking down the doors, interrupting Laura and I… this is where you'll be headed."

Against his chest, Laura's body shook with laughter at their antics. She leaned back, brushed her tears away, and kissed his cheek. "Don't you worry, Rem. Harry and I will have a long talk when we move in about what is acceptable behavior and what isn't," she informed him. As if Harry understood, he leaned his body close to Laura's legs and let out a short howl.

From the other side of the fence, they heard a voice call out, "Miss Holt? Is that you?"

Laura closed her eyes and exhaled. "Yes, Mr. Johnson. And that's Mrs. Steele, remember?" she groaned.

They could hear a clattering sound before Mr. Johnson's head appeared above the tall fence. "Forgive me. I was just trimming some bushes when I thought I heard voices back here," Mr. Johnson explained. For good measure, he held up the hedge clippers in his hand. "Are they almost done in there?" he asked as he flipped his thumb in the direction of the house.

"Almost. Another week or two and we should be moving in," Remington replied with a wide smile.

"Good. Maybe the noise will quiet down then," Mr. Johnson grumbled. He adjusted his bucket hat and added, "It's been very noisy the last few months with them working here night and day."

Laura and Remington crossed the yard with Harry in tow to chat with their neighbor without yelling. Harry began a low rumbling growl as they got closer before he lunged forward and began an all-out barrage of barking. "Settle down, Harry. It's just our new neighbor, Mr. Johnson," Remington tried, but Harry pulled harder on the leather strap.

"Nice dog you got there. Quite the guard dog from the sounds of it," Mr. Johnson observed. Harry barked and snarled incessantly, despite Laura and Remington's attempts to quiet him. "He's not going to be doing that a lot, is he? This is a nice, peaceful neighborhood. We don't like a lot of noise," Mr. Johnson chastised.

From somewhere in the house, they could hear the high-pitched whine of a table saw. Harry's ears immediately began twitching nervously from side to side. Remington held the leash tight as Harry's barking settled down and the sound of the table saw stopped. He relaxed his grip just before the rapid succession of pops from a nail gun reverberated around them. Harry became frightened almost instantly; his eyes darting around, searching for the source of the sound. He took off running, jerking the leash from Remington's hand. Remington held up his arms and tried to calm him, "Harry! Harry! It's okay, Mate. It was inside the house." His efforts were in vain as Harry scrambled to find a spot in the yard to hide. He finally squeezed himself behind the shed and began whimpering.

"I'll get him," Laura instinctively stated, but it was Remington who shook his head.

"No," he insisted. "Let me. He already trusts you, Laura. He needs to have a reason to trust me also." Laura reached out, brushed her fingertips down the front of his jacket, and silently gave him permission.

Remington quickly moved to the spot he had last seen Harry and dropped to his knees. "Come on out, Harry. It can't hurt you," he crooned softly. He reached his hands forward toward the dog shaking in fear. Harry tried to scoot back further, but his progress was hindered where the fence leaned slightly toward the back of the shed. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I won't let anything hurt you, Harry. Believe me. I'm going to protect you any way I know how," he assured the frightened animal. Harry whined loudly in response, but Remington couldn't help notice the gentle twitch of his tail. "Come on now. I'm right here. It's okay," he continued to cajole Harry into shuffling forward slowly until Remington could finally reach his collar and leash. He pressed his face against Harry's head and whispered, "We're gonna take good care of you, Mate. Don't you worry." Harry responded with a wet kiss in Remington's ear. "Let's go find Laura, boy. She's a bit worried by now, I'm sure." Harry slowly raised to his feet, and with a full body shake, he tentatively followed Remington to where Laura was still standing.

"He's gonna be okay," Remington assured his wife. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, and as he was inspecting his pants for any mud or dirt, he heard Mr. Johnson call out, "Quite the guard dog." The man's words immediately fueled Remington's anger. He took two steps toward his new neighbor, pointed his finger, and roared, "That dog has seen more military action in his short life than most men alive today." Laura reached up to try to distract Remington, but his angry tirade continued, "You stand up there, spouting about how quiet the neighborhood should be but let me tell you something. If it weren't for dogs like him or men like his previous owner, you wouldn't be free enough to complain about the noise."

"Rem… calm down. You don't want to upset Harry again," Laura pleaded. Harry was pressing himself firmly against her legs, shaking. She was torn between calming her husband and reassuring the frightened animal. Remington made the choice for her when he turned back to Mr. Johnson and growled, "Don't you ever comment about my dog or my family again or …" His voice trailed off as Laura's hand slipped off his arm. He glared at Mr. Johnson once more, pointed his finger, and commanded, "Don't ever." He turned his back on the man on the ladder and returned his attention to Laura and Harry.

Mr. Johnson watched as both Laura and Remington got on the ground with Harry, where they continually spoke softly to him until he rolled onto his back and relaxed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know," he called out. When no one responded, he tried one last time, "We had a dog in our platoon in Nam. Best damn dog I ever knew. He gave his life so three men could live. I never forgot that." Remington slowly stood and turned to face the man. "There's a lot of things that went on over there I can't forget. I wasn't even there all that long, but there are just some things… I'm sorry I judged him… and you folks." Mr. Johnson began to descend his ladder when Remington stopped him.

"Maybe… maybe once we're all settled in, you and your family can join us for dinner one night," Remington offered.

Mr. Johnson stepped up on the ladder, and with a forlorn expression, he nodded his head and said, "We'd like that."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Remington was tucking his shirt into his pants as he and Laura were hurrying out of the car in the gallery parking lot. He paused for a moment to straighten his tie and called out, "Hang on, Laura. I need a sec."

Laura rolled her eyes and turned back to see her husband readjusting his clothes again. "Not that I don't appreciate your attention to tidiness, Mr. Steele, but we are late as it is," she informed him.

"Remington Steele never shows up wrinkled… or muddy as the case may be. Besides, it was very convenient we had to stop, otherwise, Harry might still be a nervous wreck," Remington reminded her.

"True. He did seem to calm down once he found that bear Eli gave him. He looked so sweet, curled up on the couch with the bear between his paws," Laura reminisced.

Remington crinkled his nose. "About that, Laura. We need to have a discussion about Harry on the furniture."

"You left a sheet over the couch, didn't you?" she retorted quickly.

Remington narrowed his eyes to snap a reply but was interrupted by the sound of Detective Jarvis calling to them. "Mr. Steele, Mrs. Steele. I didn't think you were still coming," he exhaled as he neared the two of them.

"Jarvis," Remington acknowledged with a nod. "Sorry for the delay. We needed to make an unexpected stop on our way."

"I have to say, I was a bit surprised when you requested this meeting," Jarvis admitted.

Remington escorted Laura to the door of the gallery and held it open for Detective Jarvis without responding to his statement. He spied Valerie Liang across the sales floor, talking to a customer. With a toothy grin and a wave, he got her attention. She quickly finished her conversation and headed in their direction. "Mr. Steele, so nice to see you again," she beamed.

"Miss Liang, let me introduce you to Detective Jarvis." Remington returned her smile and waited for some reaction. When she continued to stare at him, he added, "We'd like to take another look at the um… crime scene… as it may be."

Valerie's face flickered with panic for just a moment before she glazed over and said, "Of course. Steffie's office. We can go there now."

Remington lifted an eyebrow at Detective Jarvis, who fumbled his pipe as he placed it in his mouth. He quickly looked over at Laura and assured her, "It's not lit, Mrs. Steele. It just helps me think sometimes." He studied Valerie as they followed her into the hidden hallway. "Mrs. Liang, can you tell me where we might find the surveillance tape from the night of the fundraiser?"

Valerie shot him a daggered glare and corrected him, "That's _Miss_ , Detective. And I'm not really sure where that tape is. I figured the thief stole it when he stole the money. We're missing several surveillance tapes, actually." She paused and dramatically widened her eyes and whispered, "You don't think the murderer has been here before casing out the place, do you?"

Laura slipped her hand into the crook of Remington's elbow and stated, "It's a possibility. Don't you think, Mr. Steele?"

Remington swiped at his mouth and nodded slowly. "Yes, yes, it is. We've come across a thief or two that has visited the spot they intend to pilfer to get a layout of the land, so to speak. It would make sense that the perpetrator might want to hide the video evidence, thereby stealing the surveillance videos would make it difficult for the police to narrow down a suspect. Wouldn't you agree, Detective Jarvis?"

Jarvis blinked several times before he, too, nodded in agreement. "Yeah… you know, it happens more often than you think." He tucked the pipe back into his jacket pocket as they arrived at Stefan Dubois's office door. "Miss Liang, you didn't start cleaning anything up, by any chance, did you?"

Valerie groaned loudly, "No. You asked… sorry… instructed us not to, so we've been waiting patiently for your permission."

Laura tipped her head slightly and smiled. "I'm sorry, Miss Liang, but do you mean _**you've**_ been waiting for the police to give you the all-clear?"

"Emmie and I… he's been so distraught about his father… he was here earlier today and wanted to start cleaning things up, but I reminded him what Detective Jarvis said," Valerie clarified.

"Oh," Laura gasped. She stepped into the office and immediately noticed the neatened appearance of the desk. She waved her hand above the massive piece of furniture and pondered, "What happened to all the files that were here yesterday? There were a half-dozen or so on the desk when we were here." She studied the desk for another moment and added, "And the ashtray is gone, too."

Valerie propped her hand on her hip and insisted, "This is still a place of business. Those files were for customers we are currently working with. I didn't think it would be a big deal if I moved those to my office along with the inventory sheets and invoices for purchases from the night of the fundraiser. After all, I need to document everything for the insurance company. They're not going to cover our costs unless they see written proof of the purchase amounts."

"And the ashtray?" Remington interjected.

"Emmie must have moved it earlier when he was here," Valerie admitted.

Detective Jarvis pulled out a small notebook and a pen. He jotted down several notes before he inquired, "Did you say the insurance company is going to cover the money that was stolen?"

Valerie folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, they called me this morning. They wanted to be sure the charity still received the donation Steffie promised them."

"And all those receipts… they're handwritten?" Detective Jarvis continued.

Valerie slowly bobbed her head. "Yes. Steffie was pretty old school when it came to receipts. He always insisted on writing everything out instead of using the computer. He said it felt more personal that way."

Laura grinned and carefully guided Valerie to the door. "Thank you so much for all your help, Miss Liang. I think we need to have a private conference with Detective Jarvis, but we'll call for you if we have any more questions. You've been so helpful already," she remarked. She gave Valerie a gentle but firm push into the hall before she closed the door.

"Really, Laura, there are other ways you could have handled that," Remington chastised.

Laura waited until she heard Valerie talking to someone at the other end of the hall before she turned to the two men and stated, "Well, considering Miss Liang just became a suspect, I thought it was best she left so we could discuss her motive and possible involvement."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, Mrs. Steele. Miss Liang? A suspect? How do you figure?" Detective Jarvis wondered incredulously.

"And Emmett Dubois as well," Laura informed him.

Remington stared at his wife, puzzled. "Forgive me, Laura, if I appear ignorant at the moment, but how did you make that leap?"

Laura began to pace as she walked the two men through her thought process, "Well, for starters, Emmett Dubois was estranged from his father. Therefore, he did not have access to the bank accounts he had previously. You saw where he lived, Mr. Steele. I'm sure that the son of a very wealthy art dealer would prefer to live a more lavish lifestyle even though his father chose otherwise."

Detective Jarvis leaned back against the desk and followed her with his eyes as she continued to pace. "I'm not so sure on that one, Mrs. Steele. That's a big jump to murder."

Laura hesitated her pacing for only a step when she continued, "Miss Liang has confessed to having more than a working relationship with Stefan. Not to mention, she stated he left her the gallery. And who's to say she isn't going to inflate the numbers on the receipts to get a larger payout from the insurance company."

Detective Jarvis pointed at her with his pen and agreed, "That is a theory that holds water. But without those security tapes, I have a feeling it's going to be pretty hard to prove."

Laura turned to Remington, "As soon as we get back to the office, let's have Mildred do a full financial breakdown of the gallery, Miss Liang, and Emmett's finances, and see what she can turn up."

A sly smile creased his face as Remington countered, "Miss Krebs is certainly good at ferreting out all the dirt everyone thinks they hide away under their bed, isn't she?"

Detective Jarvis tucked his pen and pad away into his pocket, stood up, and held out his hand to Remington, "I'd like to be a part of whatever you find, if that's all right? Call it a professional courtesy."

Remington squeezed his hand tightly and acknowledged, "As long as you agree to give us credit, we'll share anything we find. After all, Laura was the one who started putting the pieces together."

"And I was working on the wrong puzzle, it seems," Jarvis joked. "That's not to say Victor Boyd didn't try to rob the gallery, though," he reminded him.

Remington tucked one hand into his pocket and touched his chest with the other as he said, "I'm not saying he didn't try, but from the look of things, very clearly, there was nothing left for him to steal. Therefore his worst offense was a little breaking and entering, and even then, we have no evidence of that, wouldn't you say? Hmmm?"

Jarvis slumped his shoulders and sighed loudly, "You're right… and if it turns out that Mrs. Steele is right, then I'll be sure Mr. Boyd is cleared of all charges."

Remington draped his arm around Detective Jarvis's shoulders and squeezed him tightly. "That's the spirit! Now, let's see what Mildred can come up with and develop a plan from there."

"You got it, Mr. Steele," Jarvis replied before he stepped into the hallway and called out to Valerie, "Miss Liang, is there any way you can get me a copy of those invoices for our records?"


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The next morning, Laura, Remington, and Harry arrived at the office to find Bernice nervously tapping a pencil point off her desk. "Thank God," she exhaled. "He's been here for the last half hour, and he insisted he had to wait in Mr. Steele's office."

"Who?" Laura exclaimed as she shot a glance at the closed door.

"I don't know who he is, but he says he's from the INS, and he isn't leaving until he talks to you," Bernice warned.

"Me?" Remington squeaked.

"No, her," Bernice clarified as she pointed to Laura with the pencil.

Laura gasped, "Me? What does the INS want with just me? Are you sure that's what he said?"

Bernice leaned forward slightly and stated, "I'm sure. He wasn't taking no for an answer either. He marched himself right in there, demanded coffee, and sat on the couch. Said he wasn't leaving until he spoke to you."

Remington snapped his fingers as it dawned on him who their insistent visitor might be. "If it's who I think it is, I think Harry might be interested in meeting our guest. It's been a while since we've seen him… the last time I believe he was handcuffed and facedown on the hood of Detective Inspector Doyle's vehicle. I wonder what he wants now?"

Laura shifted Harry's leash to her right hand, and a sly smile slowly appeared. "It doesn't matter what he wants. I have very little interest in discussing anything with him. I'll take Harry with me, and why don't you see if Mildred has made any progress on those financials?" Laura suggested.

"Are you sure that's safe, Laura?" Remington questioned. In his mind, the image of Laura, wrapped up in his arms, getting dragged toward a car, flashed. The muscle in his cheek twitched involuntarily.

Laura reached up and cradled his jaw in her hand. "I'll be fine, Mr. Steele. Now, go talk to Mildred."

Remington glanced at Bernice, who was watching them with wide eyes. "Fine. But if you need me… you know how to whistle, don't you?" he offered with a tentative grin.

"To Have and Have Not, 1944, Warner Brothers. Lauren Bacall to Humphrey Bogart. Don't worry, Mr. Steele, you'll hear me if I need you," Laura replied as she grinned ear to ear.

Remington slipped his hand around her waist and flashed her a brilliant smile. "I love it when you talk like that, Mrs. Steele," he crooned.

"And I'd love it if you two love birds did some work around here," Bernice groaned from her desk.

Remington sighed and released Laura. He reached down and rubbed Harry's head and whispered, "Don't let him near her, Harry. I'm trusting you to keep her safe." He retreated across the office and rapped on Mildred's door. When he heard her call out, he gave Laura one last forlorn look before he disappeared inside.

"So, who is that guy sitting in the office right now?" Bernice wondered aloud.

Laura tightened her grip on Harry's leash. "Right now, he could be our worst nightmare," she breathed. She tugged on the leather strap and stated, "Come on, Harry. Let's see how much of a guard dog you can really be. Pass Auf." Immediately, Harry's entire demeanor changed. He no longer appeared relaxed and playful. Instead, he stood at full attention, his muscles tense, his ears pert and alert. When Laura moved, he stayed glued to her side. When she reached Remington's office door, she inhaled, pushed the door open, and said, "Hello, Tony."

Tony Roselli was lounging on the couch, his feet propped up on the table, sipping a cup of coffee. "Well, it's about time you showed up," he groaned. "I was beginning to think I wasn't wanted here."

"You're not," Laura retorted quickly. Beside her, Harry nudged her calf with his shoulder. "I see you're back in California," she commented without moving closer to the man on the couch.

"More or less," he remarked half-heartedly. "Nice dog," Tony admired dubiously as he lifted his chin toward Harry.

Laura moved closer to the couch and sat down. Harry immediately placing himself between Laura and Tony. "Thanks. Why are you here, Tony?"

Tony leaned forward and placed his coffee cup on the table, "I'm here as part of the investigation into the state of your husband's citizenship, or did you forget about that?"

"We thought with the court date coming up that there was nothing left to investigate," Laura declared.

"You thought wrong. Gladys Lynch is still pounding the pavement to prove your marriage is a fake," Tony informed her.

Laura squared her jaw and raised one eyebrow sharply. "It's not, I can assure you."

"And I can assure you that she's not going to quit until the final hour," Tony snapped back. "Listen, Laura, I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but I might be your only real hope in keeping both him and you out of prison right now."

"That's where you're wrong, Tony. We are truly married in every sense of the word, with a marriage certificate to prove it," Laura barked. Beside her, Harry rose to his feet, baring his teeth as the fur on his back rose slightly the more agitated Laura became. She reached out and touched him in an attempt to settle him but found the contact had a calming effect on her as well. Harry relaxed slightly and lowered his back half down, although his ears still stood at full attention and his jaw was closed firmly.

Tony ran his fingers through his curly hair, scratched the back of his head, and groaned, "You can be really infuriating, you know that? I came over here to try to help you."

"Why?" Laura accused loudly.

Tony slumped back onto the couch and raised his eyes skyward. "That's the million-dollar question. Why would I help you when all you did was lead me on?" he questioned.

"I didn't lead you on… we've been over this," Laura groaned.

"And I told you, it wasn't over." Tony glared at her, his intense blue eyes staring directly into hers. After several long, uncomfortable seconds, he conceded. "But I also swore if Steele was the one you really wanted, I wasn't going to stand in your way."

Laura exhaled loudly and reminded him, "That was before you tried to kidnap me, remember, Tony?"

Tony lifted his hand and rushed out, "I wasn't trying to kidnap you. I thought… I still think your boss has something on you… some kind of hold over you."

Laura leaned forward, one hand still on Harry's back, and stated, "You're wrong. I am exactly where I want to be, with _**who**_ **m** I want to be with."

"Fine. But don't be surprised when Gladys calls me to the stand to testify as a witness against you and your husband," Tony informed her.

Laura stood, smoothed her hand down the front of her dress, subconsciously pausing at her waist, and said, "I think it's time for you to go, Tony. I'll walk you out."

Tony stood, followed by Harry immediately raising to all fours. Harry grumbled forcefully. "I can see myself out," he growled. He stormed to the door, pulled it open, and turned back to Laura to add, "It's not too late to change your mind, Laura."

"I'm not going to change my mind, Tony," she enunciated clearly. With one last glare, Tony stormed out of the office.

Laura stood, rooted to the spot until she heard Remington's voice coming from her connecting office door. "So, what did Antony want this time?"

Laura dragged her eyes away from the glass doors of their outer office to look at her husband standing close by. "He wanted to let me know I could still change my mind. That I could walk away from you and be with him," she explained softly.

"And?" Remington took two tentative steps closer to where Laura stood. "What did you say?"

Laura turned and gave him a weak smile. "I told him I wasn't going to change my mind. I'm exactly where I want to be."

He gathered her into his arms and tucked his chin over the top of her head. "As am I, Mrs. Steele."

Laura wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a gentle squeeze. "So, Mr. Steele, what did Mildred discover in her research?"

Remington sighed, "That's what I love about you, Mrs. Steele. Always thinking about work, never dwelling on the moment."

Laura chuckled, her melodious voice filling the air. "No reason to focus on anything but, right now, Mr. Steele."

"All right then, I'll have Mildred come in and give us a full update over a fresh cup of coffee. How does that sound?" Remington offered.

Laura nodded and agreed, "As long as it's the same coffee Bernice made yesterday, I'm in."

"I'll confirm with Bernice," Remington informed her with a nod and a wink.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Mildred held the stack of computer paper on her lap and announced, "This is a tough call, Chief. Both Emmett Dubois and Valerie Liang are over their heads, swimming in debt."

Remington furrowed his brow and paced several steps before he came to a stop. "You mean, they both had a reason to kill Stefan Dubois?" he questioned.

"I don't know about killing him, but each of them could use the money that was stolen," Mildred clarified.

Laura lowered her coffee mug and sighed, "So, we're right back to square one?"

Mildred shook her head slightly. "I don't know about that one. Stefan Dubois had an insurance policy… and guess who the beneficiary is?" she teased.

"I would think it would be his son, Emmett," Laura declared.

"Wrong!" Mildred chimed.

Remington stepped forward and decided, "Then it must be Miss Liang."

"Wrong again, Boss," Mildred teased with a wide grin.

Laura studied Mildred's face carefully before she theorized, "Well if it wasn't Emmett and it isn't Valerie, there must be a third player in this game we don't know about."

"Not exactly," Mildred dangled. Laura and Remington glared at her until she finally threw her hands up in the air and groaned, "Can't a girl have any fun around here?"

"Mildred, if Emmett isn't the beneficiary, nor is Valerie, would you care to fill us in on who it may be?" Remington demanded with a wave of his hand.

Mildred sighed loudly. "All right, all right. I'll tell you. But I can say you were both partially right," she began. When Laura pursed her lips tightly, Mildred rushed out, "They are both the beneficiaries, BUT it states very clearly that they only received a relatively small monthly payout over the course of five years."

Laura slumped against the couch cushion and declared, "Which means it's probably not enough to lead either one of them to commit murder."

"Probably not. It's only a little over four thousand a month. The total sum of the policy was only five hundred thousand, split in two, then divided up over sixty months," Mildred explained. "And all of that's before taxes. Figure that in, you're talking probably closer to three grand a month."

Remington leaned his hands on the back of Mildred's chair and studied the computer printout over her shoulder. He skimmed the columns of numbers until one caught his attention. "Mildred, how much money was collected again during that fundraiser the night Dubois was killed?"

"According to the receipts Miss Liang gave Detective Jarvis, just about five hundred thousand, give or take a few dollars," Mildred quickly replied.

Remington nodded, swiped his mouth with one hand, and recalled, "That's right. Vic mentioned it was half a mil… but what I want to know is, how did Vic know it was going to be all cash?"

"He said someone told him," Laura reminded her husband.

"Who?" Remington immediately retorted. "Who told Vic it was going to be a cash-only event? And why all cash? I'm sure for the reputable clientele that was invited to the event, Stefan Dubois could have accepted checks or credit cards or the like?"

Laura fingered the hollow of her throat as she contemplated his suggestion. "You've got a point there, Mr. Steele. Who would've known the event was going to be all cash? Someone who was invited, perhaps? I wonder if we could get a list of attendees from that evening."

Mildred smiled again. "No need, Boss. I already got it."

Remington grinned. "Well done, Mildred. Perhaps Mrs. Steele and I should discuss more benefits on your behalf, with all these new skills you've established."

Mildred held up one hand and shook her head. "It's okay, Chief. It's all part of my job, remember? Just because I took that test and I'm still waiting on the results doesn't mean I'm not going to do a thorough investigation when I'm asked." She handed Laura a list of names from the stack of papers in her lap.

Laura skimmed the list and stated, "All these names on this list are either celebrities or high-powered executives from around Los Angeles. I don't see anyone that would raise a red flag in my book." She held the sheet out for Remington to take. He did a cursory scan of the names and nodded.

"I would agree with Mrs. Steele. All the names on this list are from the upper crust, the echelon of the LA society pages," Remington exhaled. "I'm not seeing anyone on there that would benefit from a theft of that sort. That amount of money is mere pocket change to most of them."

Laura stared at the list again for several minutes before an idea crossed her mind. "What if the person we're searching for isn't on this list but knew what Stefan's goal was for the fundraiser?" she offered with an impish smile.

"Intriguing idea, Laura, but how would we know who that person might be?" Remington inquired. Without waiting for her reply, he paced several laps back in forth in front of his desk, occasionally stopping to wave one hand or the other, mentally checking off anyone he could think of. When he ran out of ideas, he leaned against his desk, dragged his hands down his face, and groaned, "This is maddening. A whodunit of all whodunits. I'm stumped."

Laura slowly rose to her feet and crossed the room to stand across from her husband. She held the list in her hand and used the papers to fan herself as she began, "Well, we've got two people who would benefit financially from Stefan's death, do we not?"

Remington rolled his eyes and groaned, "We've already gone over that, Laura. Both Emmett and Valerie both benefited from his life insurance policy."

"Yes, but what if they both benefited from the theft as well?" Laura tantalized.

"We've already covered that, Mrs. Steele," Mildred interjected.

Laura flashed Mildred a bright smile over her shoulder before turning back to Remington. "And what if they intend to scam the insurance company also?"

Remington folded his arms and mulled the idea over in his mind. "So let me get this straight… you think somehow Emmett and Valerie planned his murder in order to steal the money and defraud the insurance company?" he pondered.

"Well, I don't know if they planned his murder, per se, but I do think they were both in on the theft," Laura concluded.

Remington tapped his pursed lips with one finger before he reached over and lifted the phone receiver off the cradle. He punched in a series of numbers, and as soon as he heard a voice on the other end, he stated, "Vic. Steele here. Listen… the man that informed you about the fundraiser… do you perhaps, know who it was?" He listened to Vic's explanation and frowned. "Are you sure?... You did say it was a guy." He paused again before nodding. "Okay, okay… I know you're not blind… okay… Mrs. Steele and I were just going over the facts of your case now… Don't you worry. We'll fill Detective Jarvis in on all the details. I'll call you later. Thanks, Mate." He hung up the phone, turned back to Mildred and Laura, and stated, "It wasn't a man who contacted him. It was a woman. He said she found him in a local dive bar, and after a few drinks, she told him all about the fundraiser."

"You think it was Miss Liang, Boss?" Mildred questioned with wide eyes.

"It's a distinct possibility, Mildred, but we won't know for sure until Vic can make a positive ID for us. So, I have a plan. Tomorrow, Vic and I will take a visit to see Miss Liang and gauge her reaction," Remington shared his plan.

"What are you going to do if she does react?" Mildred begged.

Remington tucked his hands into his pockets. "I suppose that's more information Detective Jarvis would want to know."

"There's only one problem," Laura reminded him.

"What's that?" he immediately replied.

"Just because Vic was alerted to the fundraiser, possibly by Miss Liang, doesn't mean she killed Stefan," Laura stated.

Remington held up one finger and rebuked, "Ahhh, true, but it does give us a motive for the robbery and an attempt to set up Vic to take the fall for it."

"And, in turn, it takes the suspicion away from either Valerie or Emmett," Laura agreed.

"Good, then we are all on the same page. Now, I say it's time for Mrs. Steele and I to take a break. Good work, Mildred. See if there is anything else you can find about our illustrious duo," Remington instructed.

Mildred rose from her seat and asked, "What are you going to do, Boss?"

With a smile, Remington lifted his chin in Harry's direction, who was peacefully sleeping on the couch during the entire time they were having their discussion. "We are going to take Harry for a stroll along the beach for some fresh air before dropping him back at our flat, and then Laura and I are going to start packing up the loft."

Laura reached out and touched his arm. "That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Steele. Let me just check in with Bernice for any more messages, and we can go," Laura commented. She turned to face Harry and called to the dog, "What do you think, Harry? Want to go for a walk along the beach?" Harry lifted his head, blinked lazily, and grunted a muffled bark in return. "I think he agrees, Mr. Steele."

Remington looked at Laura, then at Harry, and laughed, "I couldn't have said it better myself."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"That's another one," Remington groaned as he shifted another box of books onto the ever-growing pile stacked against the wall of loft beside the door. "Really, Laura, six boxes of just books? I can't believe the amount of items one accumulates in just a short period of time," he groused. He turned to see her carefully wrapping glasses in newspaper before laying each one in a bubblewrap-lined box. "Is that all you've done while I've been slaving over here, retrieving your books from the highest shelves?"

Laura gave her husband a crooked, dimpled grin. "No. For your information, I packed all the cabinets as well."

"Please tell me you at least have water still in the refrigerator?" he requested.

"You can't use a glass, though. I just packed the last one," Laura stated.

Remington dramatically rolled his eyes. "I'm not a complete Neanderthal, Laura, but if I must drink it straight from the bottle, I must."

"Speaking of Neanderthals, I couldn't help but reminisce about Butch Bemis or Maxwell or even Wally for that matter…" Laura's voice trailed off. She exhaled sharply before turning her attention back to the stack of dishes on the counter, waiting to be wrapped up.

Remington studied her face carefully. "What's wrong, Laura?" When she didn't reply immediately, he wound his way around the boxes scattered across the floor until he stood beside her. "What about Butch and all those other fellows?" he asked softly.

Laura shook her head. "No… I was just thinking how many times I let someone in my home before I finally let you into my heart."

Remington placed his hand on her elbow and turned her body to face him. "You don't really believe that now do you?" he questioned. Laura just stared at his chest, unable to make eye contact with him. He lifted her chin, and he could clearly identify the telltale sign of tears glistening in her eyes. "Hey, none of that," he assured her as he pulled her close to his chest in a loving embrace.

Laura shook her head and admitted, "I don't know what's wrong with me. One minute I'm completely content wrapping a glass, and the next, I'm getting all emotional at the stack of books on the counter there."

Remington chuckled deeply, the sound reverberating in his chest. "Love, you forget what our babe is doing to you. You're not going to be able to control that any more than you're going to be able to control having to purchase a new wardrobe soon. It's perfectly normal… according to the book I've been reading," he assured her softly. He rubbed her back with one hand while the other stroked against her hair.

With a stuttered exhale, Laura gave him a tight squeeze. "I guess you're right. Maybe I should take your advice and do a little bit of reading myself. Maybe then I wouldn't feel so… overwhelmed right now."

"Laura… Holt… Steele…. Overwhelmed by what?" Remington mocked jokingly.

Laura took a step back and brushed her hair off her face. "I guess I'm still getting used to all the changes. And packing up the loft… I don't know… It's the biggest step we're taking. I mean, I know we've been actively living together since we returned from Ireland, but we still have our own places, our own spaces, so to speak. Now… it's all going to be one," she stammered. Remington leaned against the counter and waited as Laura continued to speak. "When Wilson moved in… it was still my house, you know. He brought some of his things there, and it felt different but safe because it was still mine. When he left, he may have broken my heart, but I still had my home. Even after Veckmer blew up my house, as soon as we came across the loft, I knew I was going to be okay because I'd found a new home to call my own. But now... "

"Now what?" Remington interjected softly.

"Now, it's going to be ours. Not mine. Not yours. Ours. It scares me a little to think about it," Laura conceded.

Remington wrapped her into his embrace once again. "Laura, have I told you recently how much I love that beautiful, complicated mind of yours?" he sighed against her hair.

"No," Laura's muffled reply came from beneath his chin.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I've said it before. I've traveled light my whole life because I never knew where I was going to be or when I was going to need to pack up and go at a moment's notice. I don't have the ties to the physical objects like you do because, as you've learned, many things can simply be replaced. Take that piano over there. Yes, it's not the same one your grandmother gave you, but in the last few years, how often have you thought of her piano while you've been playing that one, eh?" he suggested.

"Not very often," Laura admitted as she lifted her eyes and focused on the elegant focal point.

"And those pictures that adorn it… Thanks to Frances and your mother, you were able to replace the ones you lost with others, correct?" he continued.

Laura released Remington and crossed the room to lift the frames one by one. "And I even got new ones I didn't have before. Like this one." She held up a picture of the two of them, taken at a charity ball the year before.

"Right. So you've been able to keep moving forward, bringing your memories with you each time. I've finally learned, thanks to you, love, that I can have that, too. I'm deserving of the family I never thought I'd have or even dreamed of. And I can't wait to cover the walls of our house with pictures of our family, near and far," Remington concluded.

"I never thought of it that way," Laura shared. She lowered the picture frames back down onto the piano, took a deep, cleansing breath, and stated, "We have a lot of work to do, Mr. Steele."

Remington tugged on his ear nervously as he straightened to his full height and waited for her next comment. "And?" he asked tentatively.

Laura surveyed the open room and pointed. "Let's get all the pictures packed, the rest of the pots and pans, and…" she paused as she mentally calculated what was left. "We can tackle my desk. After that, I say we head home for a bite to eat and maybe a run with Harry. What do you say?"

Remington grinned widely and countered, "Yes to all the packing and dinner, but I'll pass on the run with Harry. He seems to enjoy your company much better than my own on that aspect."

"Fine, then. Pack, dinner, I'll run with Harry, and you'll start writing up all our case notes," Laura exclaimed.

"Really, Laura? Case notes? Tonight?" Remington whined.

Laura propped one hand on her hip, raised an eyebrow, and suggested, "Maybe, Mr. Steele, they'll be a little incentive for you if you can finish all those notes before Harry and I get back."

Remington swiftly crossed the room with long strides and swept Laura into his arms. He brushed his lips across hers and whispered, "Is that so? What sort of incentive are we talking about here?"

Laura pecked a kiss on his lips and laughed, "You're never going to know if you don't try."

Remington pressed his lips to hers firmly in a loving kiss filled with promise. "All right, my beguiling wife, where do we begin?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Remington flipped the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other before he reminded his old friend, "Vic, you remember what I told you."

Beside him in the Auburn, Vic rolled his eyes. "I remember, Max. I'm not _stunod,_ you know."

Remington snickered, "I know that but you have already been slightly deceitful, and my wife doesn't take too much stock in your level of honesty at the moment."

Vic reached out and smacked him on the shoulder. "Max, I don't know how you did it… your wife is hot!" Remington shot him a warning glare. "No… I mean… she's… sweet… your wife… she's gorgeous… and smart… How did you ever get your hooks in that dame?" Vic continued, completely oblivious to the pulsing muscle in Remington's cheek.

Remington clamped down tightly onto the toothpick until it snapped between his teeth. He removed the splintered wood and flicked it out the window. "My wife is none of your business, my friend," he responded firmly. "And you better be sure she never hears you speak like that in her presence. I can't be held accountable for what she may unleash on you if she does."

"Oh, she's one of those," Vic stated as he nodded and grinned. "All fiery… I'm telling ya, Max… what I wouldn't give for a woman like that."

"You won't be getting anything except time in the pokey if you don't do exactly as I say, Vic," Remington warned. "And why didn't you just tell us from the beginning it was a woman who told you about the money in the first place?" he added.

Vic shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I didn't think you'd believe me if I said a chick told me about the money. I figured you'd think I was just in it for the girl, you know."

Remington glanced to his left to check traffic before he maneuvered the car into the turning lane. As he waited to enter the parking lot of the gallery, he explained, "My wife now doubts other parts of your story as well, since you were less than honest right from the get-go. She's of the belief, you may still have stolen the money, and somehow, you are in a partnership of sorts with the woman who contacted you at the bar in the first place." Remington bit his bottom lip, hoping his friend wouldn't doubt him.

Earlier that morning, Laura and Remington had decided to deceive Vic slightly and make him believe Laura was questioning his story. This way, if Vic was telling the truth, he may be a little more forthcoming in identifying the mystery woman.

"If the woman you told me about is the one who contacted me at the bar, I'll be singing like a canary," Vic informed him.

"Well, just be sure to do it quietly," Remington laughed. He steered the Auburn into a parking spot and climbed out. He tugged down his sleeves and buttoned his jacket as he waited for Vic to figure out the door handle. After a full minute, Vic was still sitting in the car, confused. Remington walked around the vehicle and twisted the handle downward, releasing the door catch. Sheepishly, Vic climbed out and nodded his thanks. "Follow me," Remington instructed.

Vic fell in step behind Remington. The two men entered the gallery, where they spotted Valerie Liang standing near the hidden hallway, having an animated conversation. They couldn't hear the exchange, but from Valerie's hand gestures, Remington could only assume she was agitated. He coughed loudly to get her attention as they neared. She immediately stopped talking and turned to the two men. "Mr. Steele, how nice to see you again," she greeted him with a plastered smile. Vic stepped into view, and the color drained from her face. To hide her discomfort, she quickly added, "And I see you've brought someone new with you today."

Having noticed her immediate reaction to Vic, Remington grinned. "I've brought an associate along who happens to be an expert in his field," he remarked.

"What… um… what field is that?" Valerie stuttered nervously. She grasped and unclasped her hands several times.

"Safecracking. He's come to give another opinion on whether or not someone could have broken into that safe or if the police were correct in their assumption that the perpetrator might have surprised Stefan before the safe was even opened," Remington explained.

Valerie held her trembling hand out to Vic and stated politely, "I'm Valerie Liang, gallery manager. And you are?"

Vic took her hand and gave it a firm shake along with a nod at Remington, indicating he was positive she was the same woman who met him at the bar. "Max…" he uttered. Remington's eyebrow shot up immediately. "Max Knowling. You may have heard of me."

Valerie slithered her hand out of his as she choked, "It's very nice to meet you, Max. No, I can't say that I have."

Remington observed their exchange very carefully. Once Valerie's discomfort level was apparently clear, he requested, "Could you escort us to Stefan's office? I'd like to get Mr. Knowling's opinion as quickly as possible. He has such a tight schedule."

Valerie's eyes darted toward the hallway before she agreed, "Follow me. I was just heading down to my own office to gather my paperwork to start recording the newest acquisitions for the gallery."

Remington gave her a toothy grin, and the two men followed behind. As she neared the two doors, she stopped and pushed open the one to Stefan's office. "If you need anything, just give me a shout," she stated loudly.

Remington and Vic stepped into the room and closed the door. Vic immediately reached out and gripped Remington's arm. "That's her!" he hissed. "That's the woman that found me in that bar."

"And you're sure?" Remington demanded as he attempted to keep his tone low.

Vic nodded his head emphatically, "Of course I'm sure. You think I'm gonna forget a body like that? She told me her boyfriend was going to take care of things with the video cameras. All I had to do was slip in through the back, and the money was mine."

"And that's it? Nothing else? You didn't make any other deals with her?" Remington pushed.

"Look, I may not have told you everything in the beginning, but I'm telling you now, that's the dame that set me up!" Vic insisted.

Remington swiped at his mouth with one hand as he contemplated his friend's admission. He stared at his friend then nodded. "Okay, okay. I believe you, but that still doesn't tell us who killed Stefan. And who was this boyfriend she mentioned?"

"I'm not sure. There was a stack of videotapes on the desk when I came in, but that's all I can tell you. I didn't see anyone else," Vic offered.

"Videotapes on the desk, eh?" Remington pondered. He glanced around the room, searching for the surveillance system. When he didn't notice anything immediately, he began moving around until he spied a line of wires bracketed to the wall. He followed the bundle of colored cables to a cabinet just above the desk. He pulled open the door and found a CCTV screen inside. He pressed the button, and the screen flickered to life. On the small screen, he could see four distinct camera angles. Valerie was featured on one by the front counter where he could see her working, documenting a piece of art. On a shelf above the screen, he noticed a series of videotapes, each meticulously labeled. "Ah, the one from the night of the murder is missing," he noted. He turned off the screen and closed the cabinet. "Look in any drawer or cabinet you find. Maybe our real killer was sloppy enough to leave the tape in here?" he instructed.

The two men spent several minutes searching the room but to no avail. Finally, Remington sighed loudly. "All right, if Miss Liang is involved, perhaps she hid the tape in her office?" he suggested.

Vic shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so."

"Tell you what… I'm going to head up to the front to keep Miss Liang distracted. You search her office and if you come up with something, take it with you. But make sure you keep it hidden, so she doesn't see it, eh, mate?" Remington pulled the door open and loudly made his way down the hall, calling out to Valerie. "Miss Liang, may I have a word with you for a moment? I have a few questions about that piece of art my wife was so enchanted with the other day."

Vic easily slipped into Valerie's office as soon as Remington's voice faded. He searched every cabinet and drawer he could find, and just as he was about to leave, he accidentally kicked over the trash barrel. The contents spilled out onto the floor, and at the bottom of the barrel was an unmarked video cassette. He tucked the tape into the back waistband of his jeans, tucked his leather jacket over it, and scrambled to pick everything up. He had just closed Valerie's door and taken several steps toward the front of the gallery when a voice called to him from behind. He turned to see Emmett Dubois staring at him. "Who are you?" Emmett demanded.

Vic pointed at the other end of the hall and explained, "I'm with Mr. Steele."

"Who?" Emmett questioned again.

"Mr. Steele… he brought me along... as an expert... to see about the safe…" Vic stammered. He began slowly backing up as Emmett approached him angrily.

"Who let you into my father's office?" Emmett snapped loudly.

Remington, hearing the commotion in the hallway, quickly rushed to his friend's aid. "Ah, there you are, Max! Were you able to determine the status of the safe?" he asked cheerfully as he tried to guide Vic closer to him. "Mr. Dubois? Oh, where are my manners! I didn't notice you there!" Remington inserted quickly. "My friend, Max, here, was just confirming the theory that since safe is damn near impenetrable, the killer must have accosted your father before he got the money into the safe. Isn't that right, Max?"

"Yeah… yeah… I found what we were looking for," Vic answered with a hearty shake of his head.

"Excellent work! Now, we must be getting back to Detective Jarvis so he can continue to search for the culprit… that wrongdoer as it may!" Remington announced. He faced Valerie and added, "Thank you so very much, Miss Liang. I'll be in touch about that piece. I'm sure my wife would simply love to add that to her collection. Bye-bye now." Remington gave them a half-hearted wave before turning and guiding Vic out of the gallery.

Once they were safely in the Auburn and driving away, Vic tugged the videotape out and stated, "I'm not sure if this is exactly what we're looking for, but it's all I could find."

Remington took the tape from him, and with a slight shake of his hand, he announced, "In any case, it will make for some interesting viewing."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Remington wandered from the kitchen to the living room, carrying a tray. On the tray was a charcuterie board filled with an assortment of cured meats, sliced cheese, fruits, sliced vegetables, and nuts. He placed the tray down on the coffee table and retraced his steps to the kitchen to get the bottle of wine and wine glasses he left on the counter. When he returned, he found Harry standing by the table, his nose twitching rapidly. "Har-ry," Remington warned. "That's not for you, mate."

Ignoring Remington, Harry continued to inspect the edge of the tray until he was finally brave enough to lift his chin slightly higher. His tongue darted out to taste a piece of salami dangling on the edge.

Remington's eyes widened, and he shot forward as he reprimanded, "Harry, NO!"

Harry managed to sneak the piece of salami into his mouth before he scurried around the couch, away from Remington. He ran into the dining room and hid under the table, just out of Remington's reach.

"Dammit, Harry!" Remington snapped. He glanced at the dog, staring back at him with, what Remington could've sworn, was a smug smile before he turned his attention back to the tray. Once he realized Harry hadn't done any real damage to the tray, he shot him a glare and stated, "It's not for you, so stay out of it. I don't want to have to explain to Laura why you've made yourself sick."

"Who's sick?" Laura questioned as she stepped out of the bedroom.

"No one's sick. Harry's just decided to have himself a sample of the repast I've laid out," he explained. He studied his wife for a moment, gestured with his hand, and asked, "Is that what you're wearing?"

Laura looked down at the T-shirt and sweatpants she had on. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she demanded.

"I just thought with Jarvis coming by to watch this tape with us, you would've dressed a little more professional, that's all," he retorted quickly.

Laura blinked several times before she asked, "Since when was Jarvis invited to watch the tape with us, Mr. Steele?"

Remington tugged on his ear nervously as soon as he realized his mistake. "I...ah… I called him on my way back from the office. I thought he might want to be present when we reveal the killer," he stammered with an apologetic grin.

"IF we reveal the killer," Laura corrected him. "And when were you going to tell me you invited Jarvis?" She folded her arms across her chest and waited for his explanation.

Remington bit his bottom lip. From under the table in the dining room, he heard Harry grumbling. With a quick glance, he noticed the dog slowly inching his way forward from his hiding spot. Once he cleared the table, Harry rose to his feet and darted toward the couch. In a split second, Remington reached down and scooped the large beast up with a playful, "Not again, Harry!" Holding the dog as he would a toddler, he sighed at Laura, "You're right. I should have mentioned it when we arrived at the office, but then you suggested we would be more comfortable… less distracted… well, I just thought…" Remington's voice trailed off, and he sighed loudly.

"It's all right. I get it," Laura acknowledged. She studied her watch and asked, "How much time do I have to change?"

Before Remington could respond, the doorbell rang. He gave her a weak smile and squeaked, "I'll get it."

Laura groaned, shook her head, and pointed out, "You might want to put Harry down first."

Remington shifted the dog slightly in his arms and stated, "Then you'll have to guard the table. Harry's already managed to purloin a small bit of meat. We don't need to allow him the opportunity to indulge any further." The doorbell rang again, followed by an insistent knock. Remington lowered Harry to the floor, pointed to the table, and commanded, "NO."

Laura laughed and quickly climbed over the couch to catch Harry the moment Remington's back was turned as the dog tried to sneak forward once more to the tray of food. The doorbell rang again, several times in quick succession. Remington pulled the door open with a frustrated huff and found Gladys Lynch standing there with her hand raised to knock again. "Ms. Lynch, what a pleasure it is to see you," he stated between clenched teeth.

"Mr. Steele, I am here to inspect your domicile once again," she stated firmly.

Remington puffed out a loud breath, swept his hand to the side, and wordlessly invited her to enter. "We are expecting company in just a few minutes, Ms. Lynch," he tried to explain.

"And I suppose this company of yours is more important than your citizenship?" she demanded.

"Merely Detective Jarvis of the LAPD coming to help us identify a murderer. Nothing earth-shattering," Remington deadpanned.

Gladys pursed her lips and took two steps forward. "Where is Mrs. Steele?"

Laura raised her hand and waved, "I'm right here, Ms. Lynch. But you might want to approach slowly. Harry is a bit of a handful at the moment."

Gladys snapped her head in Remington's direction. "Who's Harry? Another long-lost sibling?" she insinuated.

A sideways, dimpled grin broke Remington's attempt to remain stone-faced. "No, Harry is our new dog. Quite a character, he is," he explained. "Would you like to meet him?"

Gladys folded her arms and stated, "I don't like dogs. Dogs don't seem to like me."

"I wonder why?" Laura whispered from her spot on the couch. Remington covered his mouth to hide his laugh as Gladys moved forward to peer around the side of the sofa. Laura was sitting on the couch, Harry was on the floor in front of her, her legs straddling his body, holding onto his collar. His body was visibly tense, and he strained forward to sniff at the new person in the room. "Easy, Harry. Ms. Lynch is very nice. She's just here, doing her job," Laura cajoled him.

Gladys pointed at Harry and asked, "When did that happen?"

"You mean when did we get Harry? Um… just a few days ago. His previous owner was being deployed to the Middle East, Harry just retired, and well... the rest is history," Remington explained as cryptically as he could. Gladys opened her mouth to respond when the doorbell rang again. "That must be Detective Jarvis," he announced. He pulled the door open, and just as he expected, Jarvis was waiting for him. "Let me introduce everyone… Detective Jarvis, Gladys Lynch… and that fluff-ball over there Laura is trying to hold back is Harry."

Detective Jarvis reached his hand out to Gladys, who simply ignored it. "Mr. Steele, I see you've got your hands full at the moment with the LAPD, so be sure to expect one more visit from me before next week," Gladys snapped. She quickly turned and stated, "I can see myself out." She left the apartment with a sharp slam of the door.

"Nice woman. Friend of yours?" Jarvis drawled.

Remington smoothed his hands down his shirt nervously, "Not exactly."

Jarvis studied him for a moment and moved his attention to Harry. He lowered himself onto the chair and reached out to stroke the dog's soft fur. "This guy… he's a handsome fella. Where'd you find him?"

Laura slowly released her hold on Harry and allowed him to approach Jarvis. Within minutes, he was on his back, his tongue lolling happily out of his mouth as Jarvis rubbed his belly briskly. "Some guard dog you are," Laura teased with a laugh. "We met Harry on a little lighthouse island when he was protecting my father."

"I heard about that. It was big news around the department. Nothing in the papers, though." Jarvis nodded. "I bet it's nice to have your old man back in the picture," he added.

Laura sat back against the couch and gave him a noncommittal shrug. "I guess. I didn't tell you, but my mother is moving back to California in a few weeks, as well."

Jarvis peered up at her and grimaced. His hands stopped moving as he asked, "You're not going to have her make that shrimp mousse anytime soon, are you?"

Laura's body began to shake with unconfined laughter as Remington watched, completely puzzled. "Shrimp mousse? Is there really such a thing, Laura?" he mused. "Please remind me to check the menu the next time she invites us over for dinner. Shrimp mousse?" he complained, drawing more laughs from Laura until tears were streaming down her cheeks and she gasped for breath.

"No more! Please… I can't breathe!" she roared.

"Laura, have you lost your senses?" Remington inquired as he watched her. "What in the bloody hell is so funny?" he demanded.

Detective Jarvis smiled at Remington and stated, "Remember a few years back when Major Descoine tried to set you up for the murder of Henry Spellman? Well, Mrs. Steele's mother called, and to distract me, Mrs. Steele handed me the phone. I got all kinds of recipes and a full lecture on commitment and marriage."

"Ah, yes. Henry Spellman… Hey, did you ever discover who the dead man really was?" Remington recalled.

"Yeah, unfortunately, it was a homeless guy they found under the bridge. No family, no one to claim him. He's buried up in Potter's Field. The only reason why we were finally able to ID him is he was arrested back in the day for B and E," Jarvis said with a heavy sigh.

Laura finally got herself under control and patted the couch beside her. Much to Remington's dismay, Harry jumped up and settled himself next to her. "Laura, I thought we discussed Harry on the couch…" he warned.

"And, as I pointed out before… there's a sheet down," she stated as she flashed him a smile. "Would you be a dear and get me some water, please?" she asked as she batted her eyes several times. "I don't want to get too thirsty while we're watching the tape."

Remington groaned softly, gave his head a solitary shake, and agreed. "Fine. How about you, Jarvis? I've got a nice wine all ready to be poured."

Jarvis flipped his wrist and studied his watch. "Aw, why not. I'm off duty in an hour anyway. You know, Mr. Steele, you didn't have to go through all this trouble for me. I'm used to vending machine snacks and warm soda, to be honest," he admitted.

Remington wandered into the kitchen and returned a minute later, carrying a glass of water for Laura. "Just because we're studying a video that may contain images of a murder doesn't mean we can't be civilized," he stated. He poured a glass of wine for Jarvis and himself before settling down on the other side of Laura. He held up the remote and asked, "Ready to begin?"

"Ready when you are, Mr. Steele," Laura laughed.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Jarvis sat on the edge of the chair, holding his head. "I still can't believe it. Miss Liang with both the deceased AND his son?" he groaned.

The trio just finished a four-hour viewing of the unmarked surveillance tape found in Valerie Liang's office. When necessary, they stopped the video several times to review and document anything that was deemed important. Laura couldn't help but laugh at Jarvis's obvious discomfort during one particular moment of passion between Valerie and Stefan. "It's all right, Jarvis. We understand."

"That doesn't bother you, Mrs. Steele?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, we come across this type of thing time and time again. The trick is to think of it purely as evidence," Laura stated with a straight face.

"I'll stick to homicide, thanks," he grimaced.

Remington chuckled playfully, "What's the matter, Jarvis? Does that sort of thing embarrass you?"

Jarvis shook his head rapidly. "Not exactly. I just think some things don't need to be on display for everyone to see."

"I understand, Jimmy," Laura chuckled. They turned their attention back to the tape, and not more than an hour later, Valerie was in the arms of Emmett, partially undressed and draped across Stefan's desk.

"Well, well, well," Remington clucked. He glanced over his shoulder and immediately made eye contact with Laura.

"Don't get any ideas, Mr. Steele," she reprimanded him softly, hoping Jarvis didn't hear them.

"On the contrary, Mrs. Steele, I have many, many ideas," he tossed back.

Jarvis lifted his chin and asked, "Oh, really, Mr. Steele? Anything you want to share?"

Slightly flustered, Remington coughed before he stated, "I'm talking about Miss Liang, of course. She had the perspicaciousness, the… the... astuteness… to get involved with both Junior and Senior Dubois. Where one failed to… to… stimulate her mind, the other—"

"Stimulated her body?" Jarvis interrupted with a look of horror on his face.

Remington puckered his lips and forced himself to stay calm, despite his urge to laugh at the grown man sitting across from them. "No… no, not that. Think about it, Jarvis. Here she is, in the good graces of both men. Both of which are seemingly oblivious to her actions. She had the best of both worlds. A wealthy boss, willing to leave her the gallery upon his death —"

"And the son willing to kill his own father for her," Laura finished.

"Well, I'm not so sure that's exactly the situation, Laura, but you might be pretty close," Remington corrected. He turned his attention back to the remote and pressed play once again.

Ninety minutes later, the three of them sat riveted to the screen as they watched Emmett and Stefan in a heated argument. As the scene unfolded before them, they found themselves leaning forward slightly, awaiting the moment they all knew was coming. In the corner of the screen, they watched as Stefan shoved bundles of cash into a bank deposit bag angrily. Emmett could be seen, puffing away on a cigarette, between moments of hand-waving and what they could only assume was shouting. Finally, as Stefan tried to sidestep his son, they discovered Emmett shoved his father, hard enough for the older man to lose his balance. They cringed as his head ricocheted off the edge of the desk, and he came to rest in a crumpled heap on the floor. Moments later, Valerie appeared.

They observed Valerie and Emmett pause for a few seconds, stunned by Stefan's limp body on the floor, before embracing each other. Not once did either of them stop to check to see if Stefan was still alive. Instead, Emmett reached down and grabbed the bag of money with one hand and Valerie's hand with the other. He tugged her from the room, closing the door behind them. On another camera angle, they watched as Emmett pulled Valerie to the front of the gallery. They stopped there and began talking again. Valerie pointed down the hallway several times as Emmett's hands gestured wildly. A minute later, Valerie returned to Stefan's office. She crouched down at the cabinet containing the safe.

Valerie stood and moved back to the desk, stepping over Stefan's body. She opened the cabinet above the desk and tapped the monitor of the surveillance camera. In horror, she turned and faced the camera mounted in the corner. She quickly reached up and depressed something on the recording machine before the screen went black.

"And not only was she… involved… with both men, she was involved in the murder, too!" Jarvis exclaimed.

"I would have to say that is an apropos observation, Jarvis. After all, she went as far as to stage the theft, although I do believe that was the originally intended scenario," Remington stated.

Jarvis shook his head. "I'm not following you, Steele."

"I believe what Mr. Steele is trying to say is Victor Boyd was alerted to the possibility of stealing the money by Valerie. She even went as far as ensuring the safe would be open for him. Now, they could use him as a scapegoat for the entire thing, just as you did initially," Laura clarified.

Jarvis sat back in the chair and sighed heavily. "I understand she set up Boyd for the money, and I understand they were going to let him take the fall for it. What I don't understand is how she thought she was going to get away with defrauding the insurance company in the first place if Stefan Dubois was still alive?"

Remington flashed him a toothy grin and stated, "Ah, yes. That. Well, from what Mildred determined, there are actually two sets of books for the gallery. She uncovered a secondary account Valerie has been slowly funneling money into. This would've been the easiest way to get herself a large sum of money to pay off all her debts in one fell swoop."

Laura's head snapped in his direction as she interjected, "When did you find that out?"

"Just before I left the office. You and Harry had already taken your leave, and as I was preparing to follow, Mildred stopped me," he informed her with a sheepish expression.

"Oh," Laura grumbled. She shifted her attention back to Jarvis and inquired, "Now what, Detective Jarvis?"

Jarvis heaved a sigh, pushed himself to his feet, and announced, "Now, we go arrest a murderer and a thief."

"And what about Victor Boyd's record?" Remington questioned as he rose to his feet.

"Cleared of all accounts, Mr. Steele," Jarvis assured him. He reached out and scratched Harry's head one last time before he turned to the door. "I'll be sure you both get credit for this one."

Laura stood and joined the two men, "And you'll be sure to tell the insurance company just who discovered the fraudulent theft?"

Jarvis chuckled. "Yes, Mrs. Steele. I'll be sure to tell the insurance company, so you get your fees covered." He assessed their faces as he anticipated another question.

"Thanks, Jarvis." Remington held out his hand and quickly added, "It's always a pleasure working with you."

Jarvis gripped his hand and pumped it heartily. "Thanks, Steele. The feeling is mutual." He made his way to the door and paused long enough to turn back and add, "Congratulations, again. I look forward to reading all about your wedding in the papers." He gave them a swift salute and left the apartment.

Remington slipped his hand around Laura's waist. "Well, Mrs. Steele, we've done it again, haven't we?"

"What do you mean?" Laura lifted her chin.

"We've not only solved a murder, but we've also helped out an old friend. We seem to be doing that a lot," he explained.

Laura squeezed Remington against her hip and replied, "It's just who we are, Mr. Steele. Now, how about I take Harry for a run, and you make us some dinner."

Remington swept her into his arms, brushed his lips across hers, and suggested, with a waggle of his eyebrows, "How about we skip dinner and go right to dessert?"

Laura pecked his lips once, gently pushed him away, and reminded him, "Your baby is telling me we need dinner."

Remington rolled his eyes, shook his head, and groused, "Already interrupting my plans, eh?"

Laura patted his chest and smiled. "Consider this practice for the real thing, Rem. So, you make dinner, and I'll take care of Harry. And just think. In a few short weeks, Harry will have the whole backyard to run around in while you and I make dinner together. Or maybe you should take Harry, and I'll make dinner tonight."

Remington's mouth dropped open. "That's not going to happen, Laura. You know the rules."

Astonished, Laura mimicked his actions. "What rules are those?" she demanded.

"That you never make dinner… or lunch or breakfast ever again. Not after that disastrous meal you tried to pass off to Frances's brood. Even the sausage, pepperoni, and pineapple pizza was better than that slop you made," he reminded her.

"That slop, as you referred to it, was my grandmother's recipe, Lambchop!" Laura roared angrily.

Remington lifted one finger and asked, "Did it taste like that?"

Defeated, Laura slumped her shoulders and said, "Come on, Harry. Let's go for a run."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The next few weeks passed slowly. Remington and Laura spent most of their time outside of work packing Laura's personal items at the loft and deciding what to do with everything in the apartment. It was finally decided they would keep most of the furniture from the apartment and have it moved to the new house for the time being. The contractor assured them they would be completely finished no later than November fifteenth, and true to his word, he and the builder handed over the keys on November fourteenth. Much to Laura's dismay, the movers, however, were unavailable to move anything until Monday, the sixteenth.

"What are you going to do, Laura? Brow-beat them into showing up early?" Remington teased after she slammed the phone down in frustration.

"NO!" she snapped with a glare in his direction. She heaved a sigh and added in a softer tone, "I just hate the rush-rush feeling we have this week. We have court on Tuesday with the INS, and my mother is having all of her things shipped her on Thursday, so most everything will be in place for her arrival Friday evening."

"Don't worry about your mother. While we unpack our home, Frances and Donald promised her they would come over to meet the movers at the apartment," Remington assured her. Laura leaned forward and rested her elbow on the table. She rubbed her brow with her fingers, a sign she was agitated. Remington stood and moved behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and began gently kneading the muscles loose. "I promise, Laura. It's all going to work out just fine," he attempted to assuage her. He knew her mother and the movers were not the real reason for her agitation.

"You don't know that," Laura defended. "You don't know what Gladys Lynch and the INS are going to say any more than I do! We don't have the best track record with them if you remember."

Remington patted her arms gently as he countered, "That was before we returned from Greece, remember? Since then, we've provided the whole bloody lot with enough documentation to prove our marriage is real and binding. And if that isn't enough, I don't know what the hell is!"

As she sensed his anger beginning to rise, Laura covered one of his hands with hers and stated, "Whatever happens, we will get through it together."

Remington forced his anger aside, leaned forward, and brushed his lips against Laura's temple. "I'm going to take Harry for a walk. Do you want to join us?"

"No, thank you. I'm a little tired today. I think I'm going to stretch out on the couch and take a nap while you're gone," Laura admitted.

Remington narrowed his eyes and studied his wife. "Are you feeling all right, Laura?"

"I'm fine. I think I just pushed myself a little too much yesterday packing the rest of the loft," she confided.

"That's it? There's nothing else going on I should know about?" Remington questioned.

Laura gave him a weak smile. "I'm fine. Now, go take Harry for that walk. It will be good for you to clear your head." When Remington still didn't move, she added, "Maybe later we can head over to the house and unpack a few things."

"Or maybe we can start christening the rooms," he replied with a waggle of his eyebrows and a crooked, toothy grin.

Laura couldn't hide her smile as she agreed, "We can do that, too." Without another word, Remington rushed to the door, Harry hot on his heels.

Two days later, they were standing in the hallway in the Immigration and Naturalization office, waiting for their hearing to begin. Laura and Remington were huddled together, flipping through the file of paperwork they brought with them, including Remington's birth certificate, their marriage license from Ireland, along with letters from Father Michael, Mickeline and the staff, his cousins, Murphy and Sherry, Bernice, Mildred and last but not least, Lady Catherine Galt. A second file folder containing a copy of the request for amendment of his passport, including the addition of his middle name and the correction to his birthdate. They also brought along with them the photo album of their ceremony as well as pictures they took during their time in Greece. They were completely engrossed with the contents of the folders, and neither one of them noticed Tony Rosselli step out of an office further down. He slowly made his way in their direction, all the while keeping his eye out for Gladys Lynch.

"Laura," Tony called out as he approached.

Remington was the first to lift his head and make eye contact. "Antony," he replied coldly.

"Can I have a word with your wife?" Tony requested sarcastically.

Remington squared his shoulders and nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't expect anything less."

His blue eyes held firm with Tony's until Laura finally lifted her chin and stated, "What do you want, Tony? I thought I said all I needed to a few weeks ago."

Tony reached out and touched her elbow as he insisted, "I only need a few minutes with you, alone, before this begins."

Laura shifted everything in her hands over to Remington and turned to face Tony. "Fine. You have my attention," she snapped.

Tony looked around furtively before he jerked his head to the side, "My office is right over there."

Laura folded her arms across her chest. "Whatever you need to say to me, you can say in front of my husband," she glowered.

Tony shook his head slowly, "No… you and I need to have this chat in private. Sorry." When Laura didn't move, he held his hand out toward the door and requested, "Please?"

Laura huffed loudly before she walked briskly down the hall, Tony following closely behind. At his office, Tony reached down, twisted the knob, and pushed the door inward, allowing her entrance. His rectangular office consisted of a small conference table complete with six chairs in the center of the room and a large desk closest to the windows. Once inside, he closed the door behind them and turned to sit on the edge of the table.

"Well, what do you have to say to me that you couldn't say in front of Mr. Steele?" Laura demanded.

"Still calling him Mr. Steele, I see," Tony pointed out. He rested one hand loosely across his thigh and casually tucked the other one into his pant's pocket.

Laura clenched her teeth and hissed, "It doesn't matter to anyone what I call him. He's still my husband."

"So you keep reminding me," Tony commented with a smirk.

Laura became angrier, her chest heaving slightly. "What is it going to take to convince you Remington and I are truly and irrevocably married? Huh? Do you want to know what we've spent the last few weeks doing? I'll tell you. We've been preparing to move into our new home. The home that we built, together," she disclosed.

Tony swallowed slowly. "Really?" He dragged the word out slowly, completely doubtful she was telling him the truth.

"And, not that it is any of your business, do you want to know what we spent most of yesterday doing, to try to keep our minds distracted?" Laura demanded.

"Not exactly," Tony retorted.

Laura took a deep breath and unloaded. "I'm going to tell you anyway. You know why, Tony. Because if this doesn't convince you, I don't know what will. We spent a good portion of the day christening rooms in our new home. Unpack a box… make love on the floor… unpack another, a counter. Another box, another room… get the picture…" Laura's voice trailed off as she leveled her eyes at him and raised a perfect brow.

Tony shifted his arms across his chest and stated, "Doesn't prove your marriage is real. I can do the same thing with any woman off the street… for the right price."

Laura threw her hands up, angrily and questioned, "What do you want from us?"

"From him? Nothing. I got all I needed from him back in England. From you… a little bit of honesty for once," Tony replied.

"Fine, then let me set you completely straight, Tony. There is nothing… let me repeat that… NOTHING between you and I," Laura affirmed.

Before she could continue, there was a rap on the door. A young woman opened the door and announced, "Mr. Rosselli, Judge Polson said we'll begin in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Mary," he answered as he stood.

Without waiting for him to say anything else, Laura stormed out of the office and back to Remington. He knew immediately she was agitated and instinctively reached out for her. His hand landed on her abdomen, and he lovingly lowered his head to whisper in her ear, "It's all right, love. This is almost over, and we can go home." Laura exhaled slowly as she covered his hand with her own, silently, and fought the burning tears in her eyes.

Tony's gaze followed Laura down the hall, but when she stopped in Remington's arms, he noticed the distinct swell of her waistline. He stormed up to the couple and demanded, "Laura, are you pregnant?"


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"Mr. Roselli, we're ready now," Gladys Lynch announced from two doors down the hall.

Tony's head snapped in her direction as he shot back, "Take five, Gladys. Mrs. Steele and I have some unfinished business first."

"Judge Polson is not—" Gladys began, but Tony quickly cut her off.

"I don't care what Polson says. I need five minutes!" he shouted.

Remington took a step closer to Laura; his hand still protectively resting on her belly. "Antony, leave it alone, Mate. Please. Just let us get through the next hour, and we can all go our separate ways," Remington pleaded, although his clenched jaw indicated he was holding back his rage.

"I want an answer!" Tony demanded.

"Yes!" Laura immediately shouted, drawing attention from other people passing in the hallway. In a lower voice, she added, "Yes, I'm pregnant! I told you, Tony… my husband in every way."

Tony took a step back and sneered, "I see how it is. I gotta hand it to you, Steele. When you stake your claim, you do it in a big way… eh, Mate?"

The hand on Laura's belly twitched angrily as Remington fought for his self-control. "Icy calm, Mr. Steele. Icy calm," Laura uttered softly.

Remington breathed sharply; his lips pulled tight. He glanced down at Laura and realized she was staring up at him. With a gentle nod of his head, he exhaled slowly and said, "Antony, I believe this is where we break ties for good. My wife and I have a lot to look forward to in the next few months, and with any luck, that judge in there will be lenient on me. I've never let Laura down when it mattered most, and I'm not about to start now."

At his admission, Laura reached up and smoothed his jacket lapel before she tucked her head under his chin, lovingly. Tony stood, watching them intently, holding back another sharp retort. His mind flashed back to a few months prior when he sat in the back of the small chapel at Ashford Castle and listened to Remington and Laura exchange marriage vows. He remembered the look on Laura's face as she listened to the words Remington spoke from his heart. He was snapped back to the present when he heard the sharp tongue of Judge Polson call his name, "Roselli! I'm waiting for you!"

Tony lifted his head and replied, "Yeah… sorry… we're coming now." Without another word to Laura or Remington, he jammed both hands into his pockets. He headed toward the stern-looking man waiting for them.

"This is it," Remington whispered.

"Let's go get 'em," Laura responded with a defiant lift of her chin.

Together, they followed Tony into the large room where Judge Polson was just taking a seat behind a raised desk. An armed bailiff stood off the to side, near another large wooden door. Gladys Lynch was settled across from the judge, and she was glaring at the group as they filed in. Tony moved to sit beside Gladys, leaving two seats at another small table across the aisle open for Laura and Remington. The judge gave them a minute to settle themselves and arrange the items they brought with them.

"Mr. Steele," Judge Polson began. "If you are unfamiliar with this process, let me explain what this hearing is for. I am an immigration judge under the auspices of the Executive Office for Immigration Review. My job is to determine whether your actions or your lack of immigration status deem you removable from the States or if anything merits any legal or discretionary relief," he explained. "In other words… it's my job to decide whether or not you should be deported immediately. Not Mr. Roselli's… not Ms. Lynch's… mine."

Remington nervously tugged at the knot on his tie, which suddenly felt much too tight for him to breathe.

"Now, I have done a cursory examination of the evidence against you, Mr. Steele. Your inability to provide a birth certificate or a valid passport several months ago raised red flags in this office. Your simple disregard to reply to any and all letters sent to you was also concerning. Then, there is the matter of the … what I can only assume, was falsified blood tests and marriage certificate prior to a hasty service on a … fishing trawler… performed by Juan Pedro Martinez Gomes, witnessed by a Mildred Krebs and Estelle Becker, an agent of the Department of Immigration and Naturalization Services," Judge Polson read his notes aloud.

"Yes, Your Honor…" Remington stammered.

Judge Polson held up his hand to stop him, "I'm not finished yet. I also have sworn statements by Ms. Lynch and Mr. Roselli and someone named Shannon Wayne, who all swear they have witnessed reasons to believe your marriage to be a fraud."

"We can explain," Laura tried to interject, but Judge Polson cut her off as well.

"No need. You are Mrs. Steele, I assume?" he questioned.

Laura nodded, "Yes, Your Honor."

"State your full name for the court, please," Judge Polson commanded.

"Laura Elizabeth Steele, Sir," she immediately replied with no hesitation.

"Maiden name?" the judge asked.

"Holt."

Judge Polson studied Laura for a moment before turning back to the notes before him. He questioned, "How did you get sucked into this mess, Mrs. Steele? Did he offer to pay you? And if that is the case, handsomely, I hope. And why on Earth did you… if I'm reading this correctly… kiss Mr. Roselli in front of Gladys Lynch before disappearing with him into the night?"

"It wasn't really like that, Your Honor," Laura replied nervously as she fingered the gold heart pendant around her neck.

"I'm not going to ask… not yet anyway. Now, based on the documentation before me, I see a valid birth certificate issued from Ireland. Is that correct?" Judge Polson requested.

Remington nodded, "Yes, Your Honor."

"Why didn't you provide this before?" he demanded.

"Well, you see, Your Honor. I wasn't privy to it before. It wasn't until after my father's death in May that I was given a valid copy," Remington stated nervously. He swiped at his mouth, which had become suddenly dry.

Judge Polson adjusted his glasses and narrowed his eyes. "If you were not privy to it before then, how did you obtain a passport?"

Remington swallowed hard, but it was Laura who answered him. "My husband had a birth certificate, Your Honor. Only, unbeknownst to him, it was fabricated by one of the families who took him in as a child. It wasn't until his father, Daniel Chalmers, passed away did he receive not only a copy of his real birth certificate but a copy of the Affidavit of Birth, signed by the woman who was present at his birth, Mara Shaughnessy."

"Lau-ra," Remington groaned under his breath after hearing his wife lie to the judge. Under the table, she gave him a swift but effective kick to the ankle.

"And do you have copies of this Affidavit of Birth?" Judge Polson requested.

"We do, Your Honor, just not with us. However, if you look at the bottom of the birth certificate, you will see the amendment note referencing the Affidavit," Remington quickly stated before Laura could say anything else.

Judge Polson flipped through several sheets of paper before finding the document. "Do you have the original with you?" he asked as he peered over the rim of his glasses.

"Right here, Sir," Remington held it up.

"Mr. Roselli, bring that to me, please," Judge Polson requested. Tony rose slowly and moved to snatch the document from Remington's hand. He brought the parchment paper to the Judge's desk and slid it to him. Judge Polson examined the document and went as far as to hold the paper up to the light, searching for a watermark. When he lowered the form, he asked, "Mr. Steele, were you one of the lost children of Ireland, perhaps?"

"In a manner of speaking. I was passed from family member to family member until I was eventually dropped off at an orphanage in Tuam, Galway, when my mother's cousin was too sick to care for me anymore. Many years later, my father found me on the streets of England. However, at that point, I had been living on the streets for far too long," he admitted as honestly as he could.

Judge Polson lowered the document and stated, "I'm sorry to hear that. In all my years working for the INS, I've come across a handful of others, much like yourself. You, Mr. Steele, are one of the lucky ones. You managed to find your father. Most of them still have no idea who they really are." He held the birth certificate out and instructed, "I've seen enough to know this is valid. Come get it, please."

Under Judge Polson's careful stare, Remington rose to his feet, retrieved the document, and sat back down. Laura immediately reached out and covered his hand with her own, entwining their fingers together.

"Mrs. Steele, what else have you brought with you?" Judge Polson questioned Laura.

"Um…" Laura hesitated. Recovering quickly, she stated, "We have a copy of our marriage certificate signed by Father Michael O'Callaghan and our witnesses, Murphy Michaels and my sister, Frances Piper."

Judge Polson gave his head a hard shake, "I've seen that. What else?"

Flustered, Laura began, "Letters from family and friends."

"Worthless. They could have been written by anyone," Judge Polson snapped.

Swallowing nervously, Laura glanced down at the table at the two photo albums they had brought. With her hopes rapidly falling, she lifted her chin and said, "Pictures from our wedding and honeymoon in Greece."

Judge Polson puckered his lips and paused. He looked down at the sheet of notes before him and narrowed his eyes. "Ms. Lynch documented you had a honeymoon in Mexico, which is where you met Mr. Roselli. Is that statement incorrect?"

"Yes… and no," Remington squeaked.

"Which is it, sir? Yes or no?!" Judge Polson demanded.

Remington glanced over his shoulder at a preening Tony and swallowed hard.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Remington felt Laura squeeze his hand gently, which gave him the courage to continue, "You see, our honeymoon after our first… hasty… wedding was gifted to us by Mildred Krebs, our office manager. That turned out to be nothing short of a nightmare. In Mexico, we did meet Mr. Roselli. But after discovering Norman Keyes, the man who singlehandedly spearheaded the campaign to prove I am not who I say I am, Keyes was killed by the _malvados_."

"What's a _malvado_?" Judge Polson interjected.

Ignoring his question, Remington continued to explain, "Once we returned to LA, a case and Mr. Roselli took us to London where we were also contacted regarding my inheritance in Ireland. To make a long story short, my mother's half-brother, the Earl of Claridge, left his entire estate to me, being the last of his blood family, after he was unable to locate his own son. It was there, at Ashford Castle, we invited friends and family to join us, not only to celebrate my inheritance but to then witness Laura and I exchanging our wedding vows in the chapel. It was very important to my wife that our marriage be blessed by the Church, Your Honor."

Judge Polson blinked several times, absorbing Remington's words. He turned several pages in the file before him and questioned, "Mr. Roselli. You were present during this ceremony, were you not?"

"I was," Tony admitted. Laura's head twisted in his direction, her eyes wide.

"And can you confirm what you witnessed during that ceremony?" Judge Polson asked.

Tony nodded once. "I witnessed Mr. and Mrs. Steele exchange their vows on the altar of the chapel, with family and friends present, just as described."

"He was there?" Laura hissed under her breath, close to Remington's ear.

"I don't know, Laura," Remington admitted just as softly.

"What is he up to now?" she demanded only loud enough for Remington to hear.

Remington patted her hand and turned his attention back to Judge Polson. "So, when did this honeymoon in Greece occur?" the judge probed further.

"After our wedding in Ireland, sir. On that Friday, we departed Ireland heading to Greece and returned home to Los Angeles the following Sunday," Remington stated confidently.

Judge Polson pressed his lips together firmly, sat back in his chair, and stared at the small group. After several minutes he stated, "Bring me the pictures, Mrs. Steele."

Laura stood slowly and nervously smoothed the front of her dress with both hands, an act which, unknowingly emphasized the swell of her waistline. She gathered the two photo albums and carefully carried the books to the judge's desk. As she lifted the requested photos, she distinctly heard Gladys gasp behind her. She returned to her seat, confused.

Judge Polson took almost ten minutes to flip slowly through the photographs. He paused several times, turned the book so Laura and Remington could see it, and he would ask who the individuals were in the photo. He closed the second book with a loud exhale and gently pushed the books forward as he reclined back in his chair again. "Mrs. Steele, tell me something," he finally stated.

"Yes, Your Honor?" she answered, her voice shaking uncharacteristically.

"When are you due?" he guessed as he slipped his glasses off. He tapped his lip with the earpiece of his frames while he awaited her answer.

"I'm sorry?" Laura responded, unsure if she heard him correctly.

Judge Polson pointed at her with the tortoiseshell frames. "Your baby. When are you due?"

"Oh," she gasped softly before she covered her belly with her hands. "March… mid-March," she corrected herself.

Judge Polson tapped his glasses again and contemplated his next question. "Do you have proof you're actually pregnant, Mrs. Steele?"

"What?" Laura trembled.

"I do," Remington stated firmly as he reached into his suit jacket. Laura stared at him, befuddled. He slowly pulled out one of the black and white sonogram images and held it up.

"Let me see that, Mr. Steele," Judge Polson commanded. Remington rose to his feet, and for the first time since they walked through the door, he moved with confidence. He handed the image to the judge and waited. "This is very telling, Mr. Steele." He gave Remington back the small photo, watched as he returned to his seat, and put the picture away. "I can't refute that piece of evidence. Mrs. Steele's name is clearly printed on the image, as well as a due date. That's very hard to fake, even in this day and age. And there's something else." Judge Polson paused and studied the couple before him.

"Yes?" Remington raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Not many men carry that type of picture around with them. And I couldn't help notice which pocket you keep it in, sir," Judge Polson pointed out.

Remington immediately covered his chest with his hand and gave him a sheepish smile. "Close to my heart," he admitted.

Beside him, Laura inhaled sharply and whispered, "Rem. I didn't know that." Her eyes filled with tears at her husband's loving gesture, despite the fact they were still sitting in the courtroom.

Remington leaned to the side and gently wiped away a tear that managed to snake down her cheek. He turned back to Judge Polson and stated, "This child is the best blessing I've ever been given. Despite the fact I was less than forthcoming when the INS first contacted me, I can assure you, Judge Polson, my wife… my child… mean the world to me. I'll do anything for them, and if that means I have to do it from halfway across the world… well, I'll find a way."

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Steele. Based on the evidence before me, I do believe your marriage is valid and binding. With that being said, you are not out of the clear just yet. You will be on a probationary period for the next eighteen months. During that time, you need to either become a naturalized American citizen, or you will be asked to reapply for an extended work visa," Judge Polson announced.

"Wait… an extended work visa… so does that mean…" Remington tried to wrap his brain around what Judge Polson just stated.

"At this time, you will be issued a proper work visa, Mr. Steele. This means you are here, in this country legally. However, that can be rescinded at any time," Judge Polson explained.

Remington gripped Laura's hand tightly. "And if I choose to stay… to become an American citizen…" he hesitated.

"Mr. Roselli and Ms. Lynch can provide you with all the details," Judge Polson assured him with a solid nod of his head.

"So we're free to go?" Laura speculated.

Judge Polson stood, gathered up the papers on his desk, and exclaimed, "Completely. Although, you will have scheduled check-ins with both Mr. Roselli and Ms. Lynch periodically. I wish you both luck. And congratulations." He left the room, the silent bailiff following behind.

Laura and Remington faced each other, wearing identical smiles. "We did it, Rem! We did it!" she rejoiced.

Remington reached up and cradled her face in his hands. "That we did, love." He pulled her close and pressed his lips firmly to hers. Lost in each other, they didn't separate until they heard Tony behind them.

"I gotta hand it to you, Steele. I didn't see this going your way. You're one lucky son-of-a-bitch," he admitted.

Reluctantly, Remington released Laura and turned to face him. "Well, Antony. Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," Remington thanked him. "Now, stay the hell away from my wife," he added as he jutted his chin slightly forward.

Tony scratched his jawline and assured him, "She's all yours." He turned abruptly and left the room.

"Mr. Steele. Mrs. Steele," Gladys acknowledged them once more before she scurried after Tony.

Remington faced Laura and took her hands in his. "Well, Mrs. Steele. What do we do now?"

"Now? Now we go home." Laura squeezed his hands. "I'm sure Harry is going to be looking for us by now," she teased softly.

Remington lifted his head and laughed wholeheartedly, relief filling him. "Ah, yes… Harry. Let's see what mischief he may have gotten himself into while we were gone."

Laura released his hands and draped her arms around his neck as she whispered, "Let's see what mischief _**we**_ can get into, Mr. Steele."

Remington flashed her a roguish, crooked grin, winked, and agreed, "With you, Mrs. Steele? My pleasure."

_To be continued Summer 2021 in Steele Counting._


End file.
